Western Australia, from Perth to Stratham

February 9-10 – From Perth to Stratham

Downtown Perth, from Kings Park

I didn’t know how hungry my eyes were for green until we landed in Perth. During the taxi ride from the airport to the car rental office, even a taciturn driver could not take the edge off my enthusiasm for the green lawns and gardens we passed.

Victoria and South Australia have green hills in winter, when rains refresh the dry landscape. The same is true in Western Australia, but there is more rain here, and this year summer started later. The reservoirs are full. A desalination plant supplies additional water. And restrictions on water consumption, at least in this southwestern corner of the huge state, are in place but less severe.

Robin with June and Ron Scott, by the war memorial in Kings Park

Our hosts were a couple Robin met on one of his APT tours. Ron and June Scott made us feel both completely at home and like honoured guests. We were grateful for a place to stay on our first night in Western Australia, but they did more than just welcome us into their home. They fed us lunch and then took us on a tour of Perth’s splendid Kings Park and down to Fremantle before treating us to tender barbecued steak, scalloped potatoes, salad, and caramel custard.

Kings Park and Botanic Garden is a Perth treasure, set aside in 1831, by Lieutenant Governor James Stirling and Surveyor General John Septimus Roe, for “public purposes.” Acres of native species and botanical treasures spread over a hill with a commanding view of the city and the joining of two rivers, the Swan and the Canning.

Aboriginal people used the area as a source of “bush tucker” as well as for ceremonies and encampments. Around its base Waugal, the rainbow serpent, meandered, leaving waterways in its path, including the Swan River on which Perth is built.

The boab tree given to the people of Western Astralia by the Gija people

We parked near the Gija Jumulu. The tree was in the path of a new bridge being constructed on the Great Northern Highway. Rather than see the tree destroyed, the Gija people of the East Kimberly offered it as a gift to the people of Western Australia. The massive old tree is the largest to have made such a long land journey. I can remember seeing photographs of the journey on the Web, just last year, and was thrilled to see the new growth that indicates it has survived the uprooting.

The tree trunk in the next photo is just one of many that have caught my eye, this one in Kings Park. I’m fascinated by tree trunks in Australia, with their twists and turns and incredible variety of texture and colour. This one attracted me because of the animals and faces I see in it.

Faces, figures, animals appear in the curves and whorls of this tree trunk in Kings Park

Port city of Fremantle

In Freemantle my camera battery gave out. Though I usually have a spare along, I’d packed it away for the flight to Perth. So this view is one of the few I took when we stopped at the war memorial in this container port. Shipping traffic now exceeds the capacity of the port so another port is planned not far to the south.

Seaside town of Mandurah, south of Perth

Next day we hopped in the little Toyota Corolla we rented from Bayswater and headed south. Along the way we stopped in the seaside town of Mandurah, where we walked along the Mandurah Estuary and stopped at Han’s Café for a lunch of spring rolls and lemon lime and bitters (a refreshing and common drink here). Robin took a photo of me in the heart sculpture by the estuary. I include it here because some people have asked why I so seldom appear in any of the photos. Easy answer: because I’m generally behind the camera.

Cathryn in Mandurah

While we were wandering around Mandurah, we came across this one-footed seagull. It won’t come as a surprise if I tell you this one was easily bullied and quickly ceded any favoured spot to two-footed cousins.

One-footed seagull in Mandurah

Harbour in Bunbury

We stopped to have a quick look around Bunbury before driving to the country home of Brian and Maureen Eaton (another couple Robin met on one of his APT tours). The photo is of an attractive coastal community, but I think the heat was affecting me by this point. I didn’t much care for the town and was not impressed when signage for the visitors centre was abysmal.

I was even less impressed when the staff member there told Robin we should walk up the 80 steps to the observation tower but didn’t mention that if we walked from there it was actually 200 steps. Still, the view from the top made the town look better than it did from the rather shabby main street, and the walk was good exercise.

On a day that must have reached forty degrees, turning into the Eatons’ driveway was like coming to a desert oasis. Surrounded by tall trees and lush gardens, the Spanish-style home offers a cool welcome. Maureen poured us a cool drink that refreshed our bodies and spirits, and we settled into the beautiful little home they built for her mother.

Cathryn on the veranda of the home the Eatons built for her mother, attached to their own

Later, over a dinner of spaghetti Bolognese and good red wine, we had a chance to get to know this delightful couple. Brian is a retired helicopter pilot who tells heart-stopping tales in a calm, low-key style. Maureen’s theatrical talents have put her at the head of productions of most of the best-known plays and musicals. Together they have created a place of beauty and welcome.

In a burned land

February 13, 2009 – In a burned land

Friday the 13th in Western Australia. Another joyous day for Robin and me. Another day of nightmares and loss for victims of Victoria’s bush fires.

Drought is no stranger in this dry land, but bushfires this extensive and this severe are rare. On the seventh of February, with temperatures reaching historic highs and winds blowing out of the country’s hot center, circumstances collided into the perfect firestorm. With flames roaring through valleys and racing up hills, with winds suddenly shifting directions, many had little warning a hungry orange monster was headed their way.

Nearly a week after the fires began, most are out, though Healesville – one of the rural communities we’ve considered as a place to settle – is still on fire watch. [NB. It's the 18th as I upload, and just yesterday residents were again on alert.] The official death toll is 181 [201 by the 17th]. With hundreds of piles of rubble yet to be combed for bodies, officials expect that toll will rise. Over a thousand homes [now 1800] were burned to the ground. Some five thousand are homeless [now measured at 7000].

Some people died trying to save their homes. Others were burned alive fleeing down roads blocked with trees that had exploded in the intense heat. In the picturesque town of Marysville, one hundred of the five hundred residents perished. Flames traveled so quickly that even hesitating long enough to gather up a few important documents, a few prized possessions was enough to mark some for death.

The fires are a disaster of epic proportions. Individuals and families are rising phoenix-like out of the ashes, but the rebuilding will take months, perhaps years. Australians are opening their hearts and their pockets. Contributions have already amounted to close to a hundred million dollars, with money continuing to pour in. Truckloads of goods have been contributed to survivors. Skilled workers are signing up to rebuild destroyed houses. One man whose house was spared has already welcomed five families into his home and expects to welcome fifteen to twenty families in caravans on his property, for as long as it takes them to rebuild.

Some officials are calling for policies that prevent expansion of rural communities and purchase of hobby farms. They write that infrastructure costs and fire danger make such settlements foolhardy and a drain on personal and collective coffers.

They are right. We humans do insist on disrupting the natural world and eventually pay the consequences. We build on flood plains and in fire zones and are amazed when water or fire overtakes us.

Clearly the increasing numbers of people wanting to live outside of Australia’s handful of urban centres pose a dilemma for future planning. A royal commission will investigate the fires, the response to them, and their aftermath and make recommendations for the future.

We will watch for the report with more interest than we’d have had before coming to Australia. We feel a new connection with the people who chose to live outside Melbourne, who preferred a quieter life than the city offers and a place where they could afford a much nicer home than in the high-priced urban suburbs.

The 2009 Victoria bushfires exploded out of a coming together of long-term drought, an intense heat wave, and expanding rural populations (not to mention some land policies that will need to be examined). Will the royal commission find some middle ground between the current laissez-faire policies in terms of rural development and the alternative of making everyone live in concrete enclaves?

Cooling sea breezes

January 30 – February 4, 2009

Robin and I are enjoying lazy days here on the Fleurieu Peninsula. Both of us have been constantly on the go our entire adult lives. Shadows of work-ethic guilt follow us around like heel-nipping dogs.

Mostly we ignore them, but sometimes they sink their teeth in deeply and shake us with “do something productive” snarls. We quiet them by sweeping a floor, preparing a meal, doing laundry, updating the blog…but they won’t be completely pacified.

I suspect they’d be quieter if we weren’t in the middle of a global recession that has played havoc with our retirement plans, along with everyone else’s. Those yapping dogs can’t dim our gratitude for this long sojourn away from our Kelowna home.

Goolwa Beach on the Fleurieu Peninsula

Since arriving in Adelaide and traveling to Point Turton and Port Elliot, we have met a parade of warm, open, friendly people. Friday that meant a trip to Goolwa to meet two couples who’d been part of one of Robin’s APT (Australian Pacific Tours) groups. Di and Wayne Darling, the first two in the photo, live right in Goolwa. Mandy and Brenton Perry live in Willunga, one of the many country towns where David’s and Robin’s father was posted during his years as a Methodist minister.

Darlings and Perrys at Hector's

Hector's on the Wharf, on the banks of the River Murray

We dined at Hector’s on the Wharf. I indulged in a plate of salt-and-pepper squid (aka calamari) while looking out on sailboats on the River Murray.

Salt and pepper squid at Hector's on the Wharf

Sailboat in the remaining stream of drought-stricken River Murray

That great river, one of only a few on this dry continent, is no longer running. If you look beyond the sailboat in the photo, you’ll see a broad expanse of brown silt where once the river flowed to the sea.

Wayne and Brenton have that rare gift in our age of mobility, a friendship that started at birth. Their grandfathers were friends. Their fathers were friends. They are friends. The next generation will find it harder to maintain that connection since the properties on which they farmed for generations are no longer in family hands.

They are vivid examples of what is happening to agriculture throughout Australia, the U.S., Canada, and elsewhere. The average age of farmers has edged into the late fifties. Their children don’t want to farm. The only way they can retire is to sell the land.

There are encouraging signs in young people with a passion for the land, for growing food, for living with the rhythm of seasons. But the vast majority of farming operations, in terms of acreage and production, are in the hands of agribusiness, whose eyes stay fixed on profits while their degradation of land, air, and water and misuse of animals continue largely unchecked.

Port Elliot's Flying Fish just may prepare the best fish and chips to be found anywhere. Here Robin and I prepare to feast with friends on the balcony of his twin's seaside flat

OK, kicking out my soapbox and heading back to Port Elliot, we had the best fish and chips I can remember right here in this little (2000 year-round population) seaside village.

The Flying Fish is named for a two-master that foundered during PE’s brief period as a shipping port. I don’t know what goes into their light, crunchy batter, but they have learned the secret of turning butterfish and potatoes into an addictive feast. Sharing the salty morsels with long-time friends of David, Jeannette and Robin made the meal all the more delicious.

Devonshire tea at Granite Rock Cafe

Lest we slip from a run of calorie-heavy days, we drove out to the Glacier Rock Café Sunday, the first of February, for a Devonshire tea.

The setting is the site of a glacial erratic discovered by geologist A.R.C. Selwyn in 1859. One of the largest in the world, the glacier-scratched rock is 500 million years old and was left behind by the glacial ice sheet that covered the South Coast 250 million years ago.

Parrot playing hide and seek in a gum tree

A parrot played hide and seek in the gums, successfully eluding my attempts to get a close shot. This was the best I could do, considerably cropped.

Tony Jarman at Granite Rock

The unfamiliar face is Tony Jarman, the youngest of the three Jarman brothers.

A few birds and mammals of the Fleurieu Peninsula

January 29, 2009

We’re away from the city now so wildlife watching ratchets up quite a few notches, particularly when we’re with people who so kindly indulge my passion for seeing animals not found in the Okanagan Valley. The ones below delighted me so much I figured they deserved a separate entry.

Encounter Bay pelican, with seagull for size comparison

The pelicans were in Encounter bay on the east side of Victor Harbor. David was taking us for a drive around the area when we spotted these birds out on the rocks. The pelicans had company, mostly seagulls but also a few shags and cormorants.

Kangaroo grazing in a Victor Harbor back yard

The kangaroos were also around Victor Harbor. Mark Jarman, David’s and Jeannette’s son, is a policeman on the Fleurieu Peninsula. He has a huge region to cover so knows every back road. Roos are common neighbours here, and he knew where to find them. After a day when he’d driven 400 kilometres in a ten-hour shift, he very kindly drove us in search of kangaroos. A handful of the photos are below.

When I startled the backyard-grazing kangaroos, they hopped across the road and headed for a new field

Roos watching us watch them

Kangaroo with a joey in her pouch

Kai giving Finn a kiss while Jeannette looks on

David and Robin putting in a new door in Port Elliot

I have a few more favourite mammals here so I’ll add a couple of photos. Three of them are in the picture of Jeannette and her two grandsons, Kai and Finn. Two others can be seen in the picture of the twins working on a door for the laundry room here at Port Elliot.

Port Elliot on the Fleurieu Peninsula

January 25-29, 2009 – Port Elliot on the Fleurieu Peninsula

I keep thinking I’ve seen the most glorious scenery the Australian coast has to offer. Then we visit another port, another bay, another stretch of coastline, and I figure the most recent tops all the others. Now that we’re spending a couple of weeks in David’s and Jeannette’s beach flat, I think maybe I really have found the best. If you don’t want to read about Port Elliot, scroll on down to the end of this entry. The photos will show you what I mean.

Horseshoe Bay

It would be hard to match the sheltered cove of Port Elliot’s Horseshoe Bay, an hour south of Adelaide. There are longer beaches elsewhere, better waves for surfers, and waters with more fish. But this one faces east so misses the westerlies. There are no shark sightings nor jellyfish or stingrays. In winter the southern right whales show up around the point, to court or calve. Surfers have plenty of waves to the east and to the west (sometimes shared with sharks). This time of year the waters warm to 25 degrees Celsius. Even in a heat wave, by afternoon a sea breeze generally brings relief. It’s too far from a major city (Adelaide, an hour north) to be overcrowded, other than during school holidays.

Of course, we haven’t been along the Great Ocean Road yet, so maybe some stretch of that coastline tops this, but for right now, Horseshoe Bay is at the head of my list.

A hot north wind flattens waves on a record-breaking hot day (46 degrees in nearby Victor Harbor)

We’re in the middle of a record-breaking heat wave. Today winds are sweeping out of deserts to the north, bringing extreme fire danger, power outages, and excessive demands for precious water to all of South Australia and the neighbouring state of Victoria. Yesterday the temperature in Victor Harbor, just west of Port Elliot, reached a high of 46 degrees Celsius. In Adelaide, where a sea change usually brings temperatures down by evening, nighttime temperatures never fell below 37.

When we make a rare foray out, as we did today to buy a newspaper and, for me, a beach shirt, the intense heat sucks the moisture right out of us. We drink copious amounts of water and are constantly drenched in sweat. There’s no air conditioning in the beach flat so we stay within reach of the fans and don’t move much. Thank goodness the humidity is low.

Aussies are proud of their ability to cope with heat and miffed by the British press’s recent suggestions that major sports events should not be held here because it’s too hot. Some of the tennis champions we’ve been watching during the Australian Open might agree with the Brits, but the Aussie press dismisses the whole flap as nothing more than “whinging Poms”.

This is a history-rich region. Mathew Flinders, the English navigator, and Nicolas Baudin, the French explorer met in 1802, near the mouth of the River Murray. Encounter Bay continues to mark the area where they met in friendly conversation at a time their countries were at war.

Even before that encounter, American whalers were hunting Southern Right Whales from a base named after their ship, the Victor. Even today the name of the town that has grown up at that site is spelled American style: Victor Harbor.

In 1851 Port Elliot was designated as a major shipping port. Work on Australia’s first public railway began, to carry wool, wheat, and other farm products from the surrounding region to waiting ships. One of the new facility’s chief attractions was water piped right to the port so that ships could refill their water casks. Unfortunately, the harbour proved too shallow as ships increased in size, and the bustling port had only a ten-year run before settling down into a quiet village and, now, a summer destination. Heritage trail signs warn visitors the remains of wrecked ships lie beneath the waves.

We celebrated Australia Day here, January 26th. Indigenous leader Professor Mick Dodson was honoured as Australian of the Year. He thought long and hard before accepting the title. Then in his speech he suggested Australia Day should be changed to a day all inhabitants of the land could celebrate rather than the day some Aborigines call “invasion day”, others “survival day”. This is not a new idea, and politicians rushed to dismiss it.

We’ve been waiting until evening to go for our walks. On this stretch of coastline, the walking options are enticing. From Cape Jervis, west of Victor Harbor, the Heysen Trail winds north along sandy beaches, high cliffs, and rolling hills into the high country of the Mount Lofty Ranges and on into the rugged Flinders Ranges. If we walked the other direction from Victor Harbor, we could stroll along sandy beaches, skirt headlands along gravel and asphalt trails, and keep the sea to our right for nearly a hundred kilometres.

Words can’t capture the beauty we see around every bend, and even the handful of photographs I’ll drop in here will show only a fraction of the sand, wave-smoothed granite, and aqua sea. But at least they’ll give you a taste of what we’re experiencing along this South Australian stretch of coast. Wish you were here.

Wave watchers and surfer on Boomer Beach, around the corner from Horseshoe Bay

Commodore Point on Horseshoe Bay

Green Bay, with Victor Harbor in the distance

Port Elliot sunset

Sunset through pink gums in the hills above Victor Harbor

Grandchildren, street parties & hills

January 24, 2009

Kai playing hide-and-seek with his grandfather, David (Robin's twin)

We spent the last week in Adelaide, enjoying beach walks and meeting more of David’s and Jeannette’s wide circle of friends, as well as 22-month-old Kai and 3.5-month-old Finn.

The latter are two of their three grandchildren. Son Mark is a policeman in Port Elliot, his German-born wife, Inken, a physiotherapist. The third grandchild, Ella, is in Bangkok, with her English-born father and Adelaide-born mother (David’s and Jeannette’s daughter), writes restaurant reviews and freelance articles.

Cathryn holding Finn, who's smiling at his grandmother, Jeannette

The world has shrunk for young people with a sense of adventure. There have always been restless souls who set off to explore far parts of the world, but never has it been so easy or so common as it is now. Everywhere we go we meet people whose children live in some other state or country. Grandparents regularly fly halfway around the world to see grandchildren, but occasional visits don’t lead to very strong intergenerational relationships.

And there’s the dilemma for us. Do we stay in Kelowna, where we have a wonderful circle of friends and a satisfying life? Or do we move to Australia, where we can be closer to Robin’s children and grandchildren, knowing they could follow the call of opportunity to some other state or some other country?

But all that is in the uncertain future, waiting for the world economic situation to give us more room to contemplate alternatives. In this current, quite wonderful life, we are extraordinarily fortunate.

This has been the week of the Tour Down Under, which gives world-class cyclists a chance to compete in the southern hemisphere while winter shuts down their sport in the north. Communities that agree to be part of the route celebrate their participation with street parties.

Body painter and topless model

We went to the one in Unley, an Adelaide suburb. We’re all getting too old for packed crowds and ear-hurting noise levels, but wine and gourmet food purveyors were doing brisk business.

Halfway along, we came across a body painter, working on the nude upper body of a curvaceous young woman. I took a couple photos of them and then Robin suggested I take some shots of the people coming across the scene.

I’ll post a few of them here, taken just at the moment they realize the model is topless.

Guys realizing the model is topless

Yes, friends, that colourful top is just paint

Friday evening we were guests at a storytelling gathering. Pretty hard to beat the combination of delicious food, friendly company, and good stories. I was delighted to have the chance to connect with Adelaide storytellers, who made David and Jeannette and Robin and me feel like honoured guests.

Saturday we went for a drive to the top of Mount Lofty in the Adelaide Hills. At 727 metres it wouldn’t qualify as a mountain in Canada, but it’s high enough to provide a sweeping view of the surrounding plans, the city of Adelaide, and the sea beyond.

Robin and David at the Bridgewater Mill

Our route through the hills took us to the old Bridgewater Mill, where we had a picnic, and on through the village of Hahndorf.

Named for Captain Dirk Hahn, the German-flavoured tourist spot is a cluster of half-timbered original cottages, later stone cottages, and modern eyesores that don’t mix well with the heritage feel of the place. The main street is lined with trees whose branches touch overhead, creating a shady bower.

The Prussian Lutheran settlers who boarded the ship Zebra in 1838 were seeking religious freedom. They were prepared to work hard to establish themselves in a new land. The good captain who settled disagreements and navigated fierce storms en route did not just drop off his passengers and sail back home. He spent considerable time making sure he was delivering his charges to a land appropriate for a new settlement.

One of the charming cottages along Hahndorf's main street

In gratitude for his care and concern, the newcomers gave his name to their new community. Tomorrow we leave for Port Elliot, on the coast south of Adelaide.

Point Turton on the Yorke Peninsula

January 16 to 18, 2009 – Point Turton

David, Jeannette, Robin, and Cathryn in Point Turton

We’re back from one of Australia’s many perfect beach spots, Point Turton. The “shack” where we stayed belongs to Frank and Jane, friends of David and Jeannette, who very kindly included Robin and me in a weekend gathering of people who were part of a tennis club. Terry and Judy made up the fourth couple here for the weekend, and the bay-view home easily accommodated us all.

Frank and Jane, our incredible hosts at Point Turton

Terry and Judy

We arrived Friday afternoon and dined and wined our way through the first evening. Before we settled in for an Aussie barbecue, we went for a walk along the shore. Robin took photos of pelicans. I’d never been so close to one before.

Pelican on beach at Point Turton

Saturday everyone went out fishing. I opted to stay behind, needing a good walk and some time to stop, reflect, and write. My only companion was Cassie, a Rottweiler who was afraid of me. First time I’ve ever met such a timid Rottie.

Robin fishing for gar

Out in the Bay the twins were catching gar fish, one for David, two for Robin. Those were the only fish pulled in (though Judy caught five and Terry one more later in the day), but everyone was thrilled by the calm seas, pristine waters, and turquoise water – at least until one of the boats had to be pulled back to shore.

Robin was intrigued by the tractors lined up along the shore. The Yorke Peninsula is farming country so tractors are a convenient and sturdy vehicle for launching boats right into the salty water, no ramp needed. There is, of course, a ramp, down in the caravan park, for those unfortunate enough to be tractor-less.

Boat-launching tractors lined up on the beach

Innes National Park

After a late lunch back at the “shack”, the twins (Robin and David) and their partners (Jeannette and I) drove south to Innes National Park. On a glorious, calm day the native bush and blue seas offer stunning scenes around every curve.

Chinaman's Hat Island

At one stop, to look at Chinaman’s Hat Island, we saw a family of emus. Dad looks after the young in an emu family so the half-grown youngsters were being watched over by a large and very attentive parent. Not far away, along the track out to the lighthouse, we looked down to see emu tracks along the beach, possibly from the same family.

Emu siblings walking along road in Innes National Park

Emu dad guarding his young

Emu tracks on the beach

Surfers at Pondalowie Bay

At Pondalowie Bay we walked out the boardwalk to watch the surfers. It’s Mark Jarman’s (Robin’s nephew) favourite surfing spot so we stayed for a while to watch young enthusiasts waiting for just the right waves. Rounding a bend as we returned to the car park, Jeannette spotted a pair of kangaroos and motioned to us to hurry to join her. We caught up with her just in time to see a female and her joey staring at a woman coming their way. Just after I took this photo, they hopped out of sight.

Kangaroos at Pondalowie Bay car park

Aussie breakfast on the barbecue

Wattle Point Wind Farm

Our last morning in Port Turton, Frank cooked an Aussie breakfast on the barbie. After a leisurely start to the day, we drove to Wattle Point Wind Farm to see the 55 giant turbines that make up one of eight wind farms in South Australia.

Main street of Edithburgh

Elevators and red cliffs at Ardrossan

Our route from there took us to Edithburgh, with its fine examples of colonial architecture. From there we meandered through a chain of small towns and into Ardrossan, where the beach is lined with red cliffs and bordered by an enormous barley elevator, where a conveyor loads ships bound for world markets. Some ships sail away with a load of barley, others with gypsum. Both use the same conveyor system for loading.

At Two Wells we stopped to see the house where a surprised mother of twins (no ultrasound in those days) brought two bundles home from hospital instead of one.

There was, of course, much more to our trip to the Yorke Peninsula, but if you’ve read this far, I’ve taxed your patience enough. I’ll just say that the flat, golden stubble of miles of farm fields, the old limestone farm houses tucked in among gum trees, the vast stretches of salt bush, the colonial architecture of rural towns, and the ever-present surrounding sea caught my imagination every minute of the way.

Double vision in Adelaide

January 10-16 – Double vision in Adelaide

David and Robin, twins together again

When we arrived at the Adelaide train station, David and Jeannette were there to greet us. I’d seen pictures so recognized them instantly. But even if I hadn’t, the resemblance between David and Robin would have been unmistakable.

It’s not just that they are identical twins. In their forty years apart, they have aged differently and are no longer exact copies. However, in their mannerisms, their voices, their patterns of speech, and thought processes, they are a match. They even fart in stereo.

Twins at Seacliff Beach

Jeannette gave me a fuzzy little koala as I stepped off the train, a welcoming gesture typical of her warm and generous spirit. Other than photographs, it’s the first souvenir of our time in Australia and likely the only one I’ll bring back to Canada.

Elder Park along the River Torrens in the heart of Adelaide

David may know more about Adelaide than any of its other million-plus residents so our first forays into the city’s beautiful heart have been rich in historic detail. Though we have only scratched the surface of the city’s historic sites, I have already gained an appreciation for a city that was deliberately ringed by parkland and founded on principles of freedom of religion.

Adelaide was founded in 1836 by the British government as a free colony, with no convict labour. The site was chosen by Colonel William Light, who planned the city and surveyed the surrounding countryside for farming. All peoples of all religions were welcome to settle in the colony. Hence many different churches were built in the city, to the point where it became known as “the city of churches”.

There was no consultation with the Aboriginal people. After land was surveyed, settlers bought by the city blocks or farmland. The proceeds of the sale then paid the ship fare for working class people to be brought out to work for the landowners. This system was known as the Wakefield System.

The week in Adelaide has been a flurry of activity, except for Tuesday, when Robin and I vegetated after we were both hit by a mysterious tummy bug. Even that day we mustered enough energy to join David and Jeannette for a visit to the Adelaide Central Market. We strolled past most of the fruit, vegetable, meat, and deli stalls, gathering ingredients for the dinner Robin and I wanted to prepare the next night. Into our bags went free-range chicken, goat cheese, aged cheddar, crisp salad vegetables, mango, ripe strawberries, and creamy Greek yoghurt (for marinating the chicken).

Seacliff Beach, just one of many glorious stretches of Adelaide waterfront

In our week in Adelaide we have enjoyed walks along sandy beaches that stretch for miles. Our walks have taken us along West Beach and from Brighton to Seacliff Beaches and back.

At Kingston we walked a small part of the Tjilbruke Trail. David told us the Dreamtime legend of the much-respected Kaurna ancestor. His grief was so deep when his nephew was killed that the Dreaming Tracks along which he carried the young man’s body to a cave burial is marked by his tears. Wherever his tears fell, a freshwater spring marks his passage, reminding those who walk between and Rapid Bay (Patparno) of his grief Kingston (Tulukdank).

Tjilbruke Monument

Another day we joined the Marion Rotary Club for an evening at the University of South Australia’s planetarium on its Mawson Lakes campus. Two Mondays in a row we’ve gone on beach walks with the Marion Probus Club.

We have laughed our way through a superb production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikkado at the Adelaide Festival Theatre. And we have enjoyed an Aussie barbecue beside the River Torrens, followed by our first chance to watch live tennis at the World Tennis Challenge (WTC) in the Memorial Drive Tennis Courts.

For the WTC, four players now on the world circuit (Mark Philipossus, Taylor Dent, Fabrice Santoro, and Joachim Johansson for you tennis enthusiasts) played demonstration matches, with Dent and Santoro giving us the most high-powered game of the evening. The other matches paired past champions and current hotshots in a team competition among four countries: France, Sweden, the U.S., and, of course, Australia.

With nothing to lose, the past champs could salt their sets with crowd-pleasing antics. In the singles, French player Henri Leconte was clown prince. In the final games—doubles that paired the current and past champions—any semblance of serious play gave way to comedy. Our stomachs were sore from laughing by the time the winning points were made.

Mansour Bahrami and Henri Leconte at World Tennis Challenge

The surprise we’d been promised during the barbecue turned out to be Mansour Bahrami. His first appearance was during the doubles. We wondered who this short, fit but clearly elder tennis statesman was. He looked too old to have much staying power on the court.

Turns out he is an Iranian-born tennis great. Burning to play but too poor to buy equipment, the young Bahrami took up a frying pan and broom handle and rigged up a tennis racket. His chance at world status was curtailed when professional sports were banned in Iran, so he emigrated to France. At thirty he was too old to become a world champion, but he has been a favourite on the Champions Tour since 1994 and is considered the best tennis entertainer on the circuit.

Side note: Robin had his eye on another part of the tennis show, the pre-game fashion models in their bikinis. I’ll drop in one of the photos he took.

Pre-WTC fashion show

Saying farewell to Melbourne

January 10, 2009

The last two nights we stayed with Michelle and Mim. Thursday we had a touch of home, when Holly (the angel who’s checking our condo, forwarding mail, and making it possible for us to be away so long) and her daughter, Lahine, sailed into the Port of Melbourne on Royal Caribbean’s Rhapsody of the Sea. The day we spent with them was too short, but it was a real treat.

Holly and Lahine by the Yarra River

Last night we invited Rick and Mario, a couple we met on the Volendam, to join us and Michelle and Mim for dinner. Michelle took us to the South Melbourne Market to shop for fresh ingredients and then headed off to work. By the time she and Mim were home, we had the feast pretty much ready.

It was the kind of evening that will stay in our memories. Lively conversation on a wide range of interesting topics in the company of intelligent, warm, fascinating people. Doesn’t get much better than that.

Michelle and Mim dropped us off at Southern Cross Station in plenty of time to check our luggage and catch the train. They sent us on our way with a lunch that was the envy of anyone who walked by, including the best tuna sandwiches we’ve ever had (tuna with sundried tomatoes, pickles, corn, carrots, cheese, and a spicy zing – on Michelle’s freshly made bread).

We’re on The Overland, a train rocking its way toward Adelaide. We have crossed the border between Victoria and South Australia, turned our watches back a half hour, and had interesting conversations with a couple who lived on the Nullabor Plains and a fellow who has developed technology to link a laptop into the satellite system, providing GPS, Internet, VOIP, and entertainment anywhere in the world.

I was warned repeatedly that the scenery between Melbourne and Adelaide is mostly flat and boring. That might be the case if we were driving, but from the comfort and ease and higher seat of a train, I’m finding the gum trees, fields, hills, farms, and big sky endlessly fascinating.

In fact, the only shadow over the day is some pain from yesterday’s nasty fall. I’d just gone out to take Wilbur (Michelle’s and Mim’s dog) for a walk when I stumbled on a patch of broken sidewalk and took a flyer. Fortunately, unlike my header in Banff last July, I’m just a bit scraped and bruised. No cracked bone this time, and I can still type, so life’s good. Very good.

When we reach Adelaide, I’ll finally get to meet Robin’s twin, David. I got a sense of just how alike they are when we had a short visit with David’s and Jeannette’s daughter, Tanya, and ten-month-old Ella. They were here from Bangkok on a Christmas visit. Little Ella looked at Robin with a slightly puzzled look and then cracked a big smile. She’d just come from a visit to her grandparents and definitely recognized the family resemblance between her grandfather and her granduncle.

We’re going to miss Michelle and Mim, Darren and Nat and little Lily. And we’ll miss the people who’ve made Melbourne such a welcoming place for us. But we’re off on our next adventure. How lucky can we be?

Last days in Melbourne

January 6, 2009

Beach at Barwon Heads on the Ballarine Peninsula

We had two more excursions following those in late December. One was a trip to Barwon Heads to visit Robin’s cousin, Heather, and her husband, Peter. They live in a bright, airy home that looks out over a tide-flushed Barwon River and acres of native bush. Within five minutes of their home, they reach a river walk that meanders for miles. On its banks are stretches of restored mangrove swamps, thanks to countless volunteer hours and the financial support of grants.

Peter, Heather and Robin above the beach at Barwon Heads

On the other side of Barwon Heads, we saw beaches that ranged from areas where families can romp in shallow water to stormier stretches where surfers find challenging waves. From the beach nearest the town, we could look out to the narrow channel where huge freighters and cruise ships thread their way toward safe harbour in Melbourne.

Castlemaine's original hotel is now a fashion centre

Our last longer trip around Melbourne was via train to Castlemaine, where we were met by Jennifer, Robin’s sister, and her husband, David. They are two artistic (theatre, stained glass, dance, architecture), thoughtful people. Nearly twenty years ago they chose to leave busy Melbourne for a quieter country life in tiny Chewton, east of Castlemaine. In the 1850s the population reached 40,000. Once the gold rush passed, many of the miners and their families left. Now 18,000 call Mount Alexander Shire home, half of them living in Castlemaine.

After years in a large house in the bush, Jennifer and David are now in the home they have built in Chewton. David’s architectural talents are obvious throughout, as are Jennifer’s artistic touches. In their time in the region, they have become integrated into the community. Theirs is a life where they are known, appreciated, and important to their neighbours.

We’re also grateful to Stan and Mary Chapman, who invited us to join their family for a New Year’s Eve celebration not far from where we’re celebrating. Robin was their tour guide on a Rockies trip last May. And we had yet another fabulous meal with Sandy and Andy Hamilton,  a couple Robin met when they were on a teacher exchange in Kelowna in the 1970s.

Garden of the Brunswick flat we've been house sitting for five weeks

Soon our time here in Brunswick, enjoying the small garden and our time with sweet Max, will end. We’ll be happy to start our next adventure but sad to leave the little canine who’s stolen our hearts.

Max, our canine companion in Brunswick

Cathryn and Max enjoying each other's company in the Brunswick garden