The blogs from Jan. 26 until Feb. 6 run chronologically.
We have done so much and there are only five more weeks. The time has moved slowly each day, but has flown by. 
Australia Day celebrations begin with a Rotary Breakfast raising funds for the flood victims in Queensland, and citizenship celebrations.
The way to the beach in Glenelg.
Figureheads restored from old ships in the Maritime Museum. the lady is Hannah and reminds me of our equally beautiful Hannah.
Wednesday, Jan. 26.
Happy Australia Day!
Another holiday. I am beginning to feel like I’m in Mexico. The Rotary Club are putting on a breakfast this year to raise funds for the flood relief. As we line-up we notice the canopied area is obviously for some kind of ceremony. Turns out the local citizens to receive civic awards will be honoured and the new Australian citizens will be sworn-in. What a great idea to do this all at once.
The breakfast consists of egg-in-the-hole, a slab of bacon, and two long, non-greasy, delicious sausages, as well as a juice or tea or coffee. Quite a deal at $7. We sit with a local couple of about our age who are here to celebrate the new Australians. They are proud of their ethnic mix. We stay through the Citizen of the Year presentation then excuse ourselves as we are on our way across town to Port Adelaide.
A tram and bus ride get us there in about an hour. The area is deserted as most shops and restaurants are closed for the holiday. It is a pretty area of wide streets and century-old buildings. The Maritime Museum is our destination. For one of the first times in Australia we are given the concession rate to enter. It is quite a delightful museum with a totally accessible sailing ship in one part. The museum appears to be occupying an old warehouse building. There are three stories in all. About halfway up the wall in the bottom level is the markings for the level of the outside street when the building was constructed.
Besides the area set-up as the inside of a migrant’s ship, I think I enjoyed the collection of figureheads that have been restored and displayed. Besides our picnic lunch, which we take outside at a shaded table, we spend over three ours here. Finally we take a quick walk to the lighthouse and up the spiral staircase to the top from which we view the entire harbour town and down to Adelaide city. Now it is time to return to the downtown for the Australia Day parade.
The historical lighthouse at Port Adelaide and the spiral staircase within.Another holiday. I am beginning to feel like I’m in Mexico. The Rotary Club are putting on a breakfast this year to raise funds for the flood relief. As we line-up we notice the canopied area is obviously for some kind of ceremony. Turns out the local citizens to receive civic awards will be honoured and the new Australian citizens will be sworn-in. What a great idea to do this all at once.
The breakfast consists of egg-in-the-hole, a slab of bacon, and two long, non-greasy, delicious sausages, as well as a juice or tea or coffee. Quite a deal at $7. We sit with a local couple of about our age who are here to celebrate the new Australians. They are proud of their ethnic mix. We stay through the Citizen of the Year presentation then excuse ourselves as we are on our way across town to Port Adelaide.
A tram and bus ride get us there in about an hour. The area is deserted as most shops and restaurants are closed for the holiday. It is a pretty area of wide streets and century-old buildings. The Maritime Museum is our destination. For one of the first times in Australia we are given the concession rate to enter. It is quite a delightful museum with a totally accessible sailing ship in one part. The museum appears to be occupying an old warehouse building. There are three stories in all. About halfway up the wall in the bottom level is the markings for the level of the outside street when the building was constructed.
Besides the area set-up as the inside of a migrant’s ship, I think I enjoyed the collection of figureheads that have been restored and displayed. Besides our picnic lunch, which we take outside at a shaded table, we spend over three ours here. Finally we take a quick walk to the lighthouse and up the spiral staircase to the top from which we view the entire harbour town and down to Adelaide city. Now it is time to return to the downtown for the Australia Day parade.
Figureheads restored from old ships in the Maritime Museum. the lady is Hannah and reminds me of our equally beautiful Hannah.
We arrive at North Terrace at about 5:15 and the parade is to start at 6. Other than the orange cones stacked by the corner and a few people sitting on benches (some with little flags) on the park side of the boulevard, there is no indication that this is to be the parade route in 45 minutes. I think more people line-up earlier for the Sun Fest parade in Castlegar! We sit beside two sisters about our age, one lives here and the other near London. Yes, this is where the parade will pass. Finally, the cones go into place on the side streets, then the traffic stops and the band is heard in the distance.
The naval cadets lead the parade with their band, followed by groups of immigrants, in alphabetical order, who march (walk) waving the Australian flag, many dressed in their native country’s clothing. A cadet leads each group carrying a sign naming the country represented. There are also kilt-wearing bands scattered between the groups. Some groups have their own band, while others have a float. It takes about an hour for everyone to pass our spot. I think it broke-up soon after passing us as some of the marchers walk to Rundle Mall at the same time we do.
This is a nice way to say goodbye to Adelaide. Tomorrow we are off to the interior and then the west coast.
The sea cadets begin the parade.
A colourful float.
Waving for the camera!
All dressed up and somewhere to go.
another float.
Beautiful women.
The hardworking Clidesdales end the parade, only the scooper comes after.
Sorry, don't know how to turn! This is the tram from Glenelg to the city.
Thursday, Jan. 27.
As luck would have it, the chesterfield in our room was never picked-up, so for being obliging customers, we are rewarded by just a cut in rate and no inconvenience.
The Adelaide airport seems very new and is blight and cheery. I like the fact that everyone can go through security and see their friends and relatives off at the boarding gate.
The trip is quick, broken-up with the usual tea & cookies. But in Alice Springs you walk down the stairs to the tarmac and pow - once you exit the plane the heat hits you head-on. I am reminded of our first visit to Jamaica and to San Jose del Cabo in April. We discover later that this is a record for today; over 46 degrees. Dry or not, that’s hot.
Our accommodations are certainly not luxurious, but we have our own bathroom and there are two swimming pools. Our room is not ready, so we stow our luggage, don our hats, and walk the “10 minute” into town. We figure everyone tells you the walk to your destination is ten minutes so you won’t think it is too far. It is closer to a 20 minute hike, but like “the mad dogs and Englishmen” we once again are out in the midday sun.
We find the tourist information office and I sign-up for the flight around Uluru (Ayers Rock) and also around the Kata Tjuta group on Saturday. We should arrive in time for the flight tomorrow, but I just want the extra cushion in case anything goes wrong.
Whether it is the heat or the cost or the lack of interest, we just wander the main mall area and head back to the hostel, bypassing the museums available. We do have a swim in the tepid water in the pool and talk with some (very young) people visiting and/or working here. The Chinese girl from Hong Kong remarks that Peter knows more about the history of China than she does and about the history of Germany than the German girl. He answers modestly that he is a lot older and has had more time to learn.
After 6, we head to the bowling alley - air-conditioned - for a wood-fired oven-baked pizza. They are quite good, but still not to Greek Oven standard! Lenore & Peter - I’m dreaming about a #24!
There is a store in town that stocks an “Outback” label of clothing which is of good design and quality. It’s times like this I wish I had more room in my suitcase and more money in my pocket!
We get ready for the morning as our “pick-up” is at 6:30 a.m. for the bus to Yulara - better known as Ayers Rock Resort.
My Australia Day outfit. I only wore the top into town.
The naval cadets lead the parade with their band, followed by groups of immigrants, in alphabetical order, who march (walk) waving the Australian flag, many dressed in their native country’s clothing. A cadet leads each group carrying a sign naming the country represented. There are also kilt-wearing bands scattered between the groups. Some groups have their own band, while others have a float. It takes about an hour for everyone to pass our spot. I think it broke-up soon after passing us as some of the marchers walk to Rundle Mall at the same time we do.
This is a nice way to say goodbye to Adelaide. Tomorrow we are off to the interior and then the west coast.
The sea cadets begin the parade.
A colourful float.
Waving for the camera!
All dressed up and somewhere to go.
another float.
Beautiful women.
The hardworking Clidesdales end the parade, only the scooper comes after.
Sorry, don't know how to turn! This is the tram from Glenelg to the city.
Thursday, Jan. 27.
As luck would have it, the chesterfield in our room was never picked-up, so for being obliging customers, we are rewarded by just a cut in rate and no inconvenience.
The Adelaide airport seems very new and is blight and cheery. I like the fact that everyone can go through security and see their friends and relatives off at the boarding gate.
The trip is quick, broken-up with the usual tea & cookies. But in Alice Springs you walk down the stairs to the tarmac and pow - once you exit the plane the heat hits you head-on. I am reminded of our first visit to Jamaica and to San Jose del Cabo in April. We discover later that this is a record for today; over 46 degrees. Dry or not, that’s hot.
Our accommodations are certainly not luxurious, but we have our own bathroom and there are two swimming pools. Our room is not ready, so we stow our luggage, don our hats, and walk the “10 minute” into town. We figure everyone tells you the walk to your destination is ten minutes so you won’t think it is too far. It is closer to a 20 minute hike, but like “the mad dogs and Englishmen” we once again are out in the midday sun.
We find the tourist information office and I sign-up for the flight around Uluru (Ayers Rock) and also around the Kata Tjuta group on Saturday. We should arrive in time for the flight tomorrow, but I just want the extra cushion in case anything goes wrong.
Whether it is the heat or the cost or the lack of interest, we just wander the main mall area and head back to the hostel, bypassing the museums available. We do have a swim in the tepid water in the pool and talk with some (very young) people visiting and/or working here. The Chinese girl from Hong Kong remarks that Peter knows more about the history of China than she does and about the history of Germany than the German girl. He answers modestly that he is a lot older and has had more time to learn.
After 6, we head to the bowling alley - air-conditioned - for a wood-fired oven-baked pizza. They are quite good, but still not to Greek Oven standard! Lenore & Peter - I’m dreaming about a #24!
There is a store in town that stocks an “Outback” label of clothing which is of good design and quality. It’s times like this I wish I had more room in my suitcase and more money in my pocket!
We get ready for the morning as our “pick-up” is at 6:30 a.m. for the bus to Yulara - better known as Ayers Rock Resort.
My Australia Day outfit. I only wore the top into town.
Friday, Jan. 28.
The good, the bad, and the great. What a day!
We have toast and coffee at 6:15 and await our 6:30 pick-up until closer to seven. Anyone who knows Peter knows that he is convinced we have been forgotten. But, no, we are just near the end of the pick-up route.
The driver is very informative, telling historic facts and stories about the places we pass in this vast Outback. The Stations, as they call their ranches, are immense. It takes 2 square kilometres to feed just one head of cattle. Just go figure. One station I noted is 12,500 sq. km., and that isn’t the biggest.
We are rolling along nicely at 100 km/hr, the driver watching for Road-Trains - trucks with multiple trailers hitched on - which he says tend to take more than their share of the road. The car limit is 130 km/hr, which helps people cover the vast distances more quickly. He says it also helps to keep drivers alert on the straight, empty stretches as you must concentrate to drive at that speed.
We make a stop at the Stuarts Well roadhouse, where they keeps camels. They offer rides - five minutes to the end of the paddock and 30 seconds back. We pass on the experience. I wouldn’t mind riding a horse, but camels are just too smelly. We are off and running for another hour and a half when suddenly, there is a beeping sound. The driver slows and pulls off the road to stop. Without a word, he goes back to check the engine. The long and the short of it is, we have an overheating engine, so he will limp along without the air-conditioning going to the Erldunda Roadhouse only a few kilometres ahead. The bad news is the mechanic who comes to take a look can’t fix it so we must wait another two hours for a replacement bus. The good is the company is allowing us to order a meal from the menu to a limit of twenty dollars. (we find out later this is because we will now probably miss dinner!) But the bonus is, the driver has mentioned the people (other than us) who are on the bus for three days and will be doing the sunset tour tonight need not worry as there will be time to get this done. My ears perk up. We had not signed-up for this and we want to do this, so Peter quietly talks to the driver and asks if we can be included - of course for a price. About half-way through our wait-time, the driver very quietly informs Peter that he has spoken to the company and we can join the others for half the regular price. Bargain. We sign-up.
Eventually, the new older bus arrives and we all clamber aboard. The rest of the trip to Yulara is uneventful. We do glimpse Cooper Rock that is often mistaken for Ayers. But it has a flat top, not the iconic rounded top of Uluru. We also see three feral camels munching on the long grass by the side of the road. One is big and white while two are smaller and tan coloured. They are all disinterested in us.
The long, straight road through the Outback.
The good, the bad, and the great. What a day!
We have toast and coffee at 6:15 and await our 6:30 pick-up until closer to seven. Anyone who knows Peter knows that he is convinced we have been forgotten. But, no, we are just near the end of the pick-up route.
The driver is very informative, telling historic facts and stories about the places we pass in this vast Outback. The Stations, as they call their ranches, are immense. It takes 2 square kilometres to feed just one head of cattle. Just go figure. One station I noted is 12,500 sq. km., and that isn’t the biggest.
We are rolling along nicely at 100 km/hr, the driver watching for Road-Trains - trucks with multiple trailers hitched on - which he says tend to take more than their share of the road. The car limit is 130 km/hr, which helps people cover the vast distances more quickly. He says it also helps to keep drivers alert on the straight, empty stretches as you must concentrate to drive at that speed.
We make a stop at the Stuarts Well roadhouse, where they keeps camels. They offer rides - five minutes to the end of the paddock and 30 seconds back. We pass on the experience. I wouldn’t mind riding a horse, but camels are just too smelly. We are off and running for another hour and a half when suddenly, there is a beeping sound. The driver slows and pulls off the road to stop. Without a word, he goes back to check the engine. The long and the short of it is, we have an overheating engine, so he will limp along without the air-conditioning going to the Erldunda Roadhouse only a few kilometres ahead. The bad news is the mechanic who comes to take a look can’t fix it so we must wait another two hours for a replacement bus. The good is the company is allowing us to order a meal from the menu to a limit of twenty dollars. (we find out later this is because we will now probably miss dinner!) But the bonus is, the driver has mentioned the people (other than us) who are on the bus for three days and will be doing the sunset tour tonight need not worry as there will be time to get this done. My ears perk up. We had not signed-up for this and we want to do this, so Peter quietly talks to the driver and asks if we can be included - of course for a price. About half-way through our wait-time, the driver very quietly informs Peter that he has spoken to the company and we can join the others for half the regular price. Bargain. We sign-up.
Eventually, the new older bus arrives and we all clamber aboard. The rest of the trip to Yulara is uneventful. We do glimpse Cooper Rock that is often mistaken for Ayers. But it has a flat top, not the iconic rounded top of Uluru. We also see three feral camels munching on the long grass by the side of the road. One is big and white while two are smaller and tan coloured. They are all disinterested in us.
The long, straight road through the Outback.
Peter pats a dingo.
The bus is "broke"!
Peter's seat for the long wait.
Peter's seat for the long wait.
Coopers Rock, sometimes mistaken for Ayers Rock/Uluru.
The rain is falling but it is not reaching the ground - it is evaporating in the heat. 46.something today!
A water hole at the base - sideways as I couldn't change it.
Pictures painting a story on the rocks.
The rain is falling but it is not reaching the ground - it is evaporating in the heat. 46.something today!
Yulara, Ayers Rock Resort, is just an oval shaped road with resorts/motels/campgrounds/shopping centre around the perimeter. Its only reason for existing is to house the visitors to Uluru. We are in the cheap ($150 a night) cabins at the campground - loo and showers along the path. Other than my encounter with a wasp and a cockroach, it is quite adequate and would sleep six if you happen to have a family or any friends!
Our tour around the rock takes about 1 ½ hours. Again, the driver is full of stories and geological history. Also, I find our why the shops were selling nets to protect the face. The flies don’t bite, but they do swarm. I will no longer feel sorry for the African children in the ads who look so forlorn with flies covering their faces. This is how it is. I think, eventually, you would just get tired of swatting and let them crawl over your eyelids, nostrils, ears, and into your mouth if you are foolish enough to talk.
I guess the fact that makes the rock so special is its size and that it is a monolith (is this correct Patrick?) which they think is only partly exposed and which was tipped onto its side so the layers of earth packed down over hundreds of thousands of years are seen vertically instead of horizontally. The aborigines would have noticed the difference of this rock to the others (Cooper & Kata Tjuta) in the area. There isn’t much else to look at but sky.
The bus takes us the nine kilometres around the rock with walks into two water holes and to a cave area. There are cave paintings in one spot.
After the tour, we make our way to the sunset viewing area. There are five or six other groups, as well as individuals, at the parking lot. Our group is given fold-out seats and snacks - cheese, crackers, salsas, wine, and orange juice. We are busy chatting with other tourists and snapping pictures as the colours of the rock change with the sun’s decent. As we begin the ride into the settlement, the sky puts on a show of both sheet and fork lightning. Like any prairie storm, it is spectacular. A lovely finish - like fireworks - to an event-filled day.
Our tour around the rock takes about 1 ½ hours. Again, the driver is full of stories and geological history. Also, I find our why the shops were selling nets to protect the face. The flies don’t bite, but they do swarm. I will no longer feel sorry for the African children in the ads who look so forlorn with flies covering their faces. This is how it is. I think, eventually, you would just get tired of swatting and let them crawl over your eyelids, nostrils, ears, and into your mouth if you are foolish enough to talk.
I guess the fact that makes the rock so special is its size and that it is a monolith (is this correct Patrick?) which they think is only partly exposed and which was tipped onto its side so the layers of earth packed down over hundreds of thousands of years are seen vertically instead of horizontally. The aborigines would have noticed the difference of this rock to the others (Cooper & Kata Tjuta) in the area. There isn’t much else to look at but sky.
The bus takes us the nine kilometres around the rock with walks into two water holes and to a cave area. There are cave paintings in one spot.
After the tour, we make our way to the sunset viewing area. There are five or six other groups, as well as individuals, at the parking lot. Our group is given fold-out seats and snacks - cheese, crackers, salsas, wine, and orange juice. We are busy chatting with other tourists and snapping pictures as the colours of the rock change with the sun’s decent. As we begin the ride into the settlement, the sky puts on a show of both sheet and fork lightning. Like any prairie storm, it is spectacular. A lovely finish - like fireworks - to an event-filled day.
What do you call a dead kangaroo on the road?
A “was-a-roo”. (The bus driver’s joke.)
Uluru from the bus.
The lush vegetation is because of the wet year.
A “was-a-roo”. (The bus driver’s joke.)
Uluru from the bus.
The lush vegetation is because of the wet year.
A water hole at the base - sideways as I couldn't change it.
Pictures painting a story on the rocks.The rock ar sunset.
The amazing sky before the storm.
The amazing sky before the storm.Peter in the pool. Has he gotten whiter on the trip?
A little friend trying to cool himself.
A little friend trying to cool himself.
Saturday, Jan. 29.
For the first time in my life I have seen one of Peter’s favourite words written in public. Yes, kids, your Dad always had his ablutions case, well now we have used the “Ablution” building in the campground. Other than the beetles (not cockroaches as Dad thought) that infest the place, it is quite adequate. It is a bit of a hike at four o’clock in the morning, but the stars are nice and it is warm.
My flight is not until 4 p.m., so we swim (I finally lose my old toe nail from my left foot, the new one is growing nicely.), sun, laze around. We walk across the oval to the shopping area and get some post cards (did you get some stamped from Yulara, kids?), by golf shirts on sale, and wander back for another swim. I take my sea-sickness pill with lunch as I want it to stay in my stomach while we fly.
The young man who picks us up at 4 is the chauffeur, guide, and pilot. He has a nervous laugh which does not instil confidence. When Peter asks, he says, yes, the temperature limit for flights in 45 degrees, but we are in luck because it has not yet gone over 44 today. There is one other couple with me. They live in Cyprus, but are British. He has a very “Coronation Street” accent and talks a little, but she seems to have sucked on too many lemons or has a bowel problem as she doesn’t so much as acknowledge that I am a fellow passenger. I guess we, from the colonies, are beneath the likes of her.
The flight itself is very bumpy on the way up through the hot air, but once at 2000 feet, it is fine. The only three things outside of flat land and sky that can be seen is Uluru, Kata Tjuta, and Cooper’s Rocks. From above, I get a real appreciation of the toughness of the aborigines. How they could survive in this hot, flat, almost waterless land is amazing. Both the Bedouin in Arabia and the Aborigines in the Outback must be admired for their toughness.
Something that amazes me is the green patches on the top of Uluru. The pilot has only been here seven months, but he says it has been a very rainy year and that is probably why the plants are growing there. This you can’t see from the ground.
After circling Uluru, we fly over and around the cluster of rocks at Rata Tyuta. These have the layers of sediment stacked as they ought to be. Otherwise, the top is rounded like Uluru. On the way back, the pilot points out just outside the resort some white tents on platforms in a cluster by a huge white tent. This is an exclusive resort that is approximately $1,500 a night. Of course, you get pampered and feed gourmet food and wine, but just a little out of our price range. I bet they don’t have the fun I have that night as I enter the cabin and a wasp flies in with me. As I am swatting at him a HUGE cockroach dashes across the floor directly at my feet. I end up a screaming-idiot on a chair. Gallant Peter comes to my rescue with the handy bug spray and shots them both. An exciting end to a once-in-a-lifetime day.
My plane.
For the first time in my life I have seen one of Peter’s favourite words written in public. Yes, kids, your Dad always had his ablutions case, well now we have used the “Ablution” building in the campground. Other than the beetles (not cockroaches as Dad thought) that infest the place, it is quite adequate. It is a bit of a hike at four o’clock in the morning, but the stars are nice and it is warm.
My flight is not until 4 p.m., so we swim (I finally lose my old toe nail from my left foot, the new one is growing nicely.), sun, laze around. We walk across the oval to the shopping area and get some post cards (did you get some stamped from Yulara, kids?), by golf shirts on sale, and wander back for another swim. I take my sea-sickness pill with lunch as I want it to stay in my stomach while we fly.
The young man who picks us up at 4 is the chauffeur, guide, and pilot. He has a nervous laugh which does not instil confidence. When Peter asks, he says, yes, the temperature limit for flights in 45 degrees, but we are in luck because it has not yet gone over 44 today. There is one other couple with me. They live in Cyprus, but are British. He has a very “Coronation Street” accent and talks a little, but she seems to have sucked on too many lemons or has a bowel problem as she doesn’t so much as acknowledge that I am a fellow passenger. I guess we, from the colonies, are beneath the likes of her.
The flight itself is very bumpy on the way up through the hot air, but once at 2000 feet, it is fine. The only three things outside of flat land and sky that can be seen is Uluru, Kata Tjuta, and Cooper’s Rocks. From above, I get a real appreciation of the toughness of the aborigines. How they could survive in this hot, flat, almost waterless land is amazing. Both the Bedouin in Arabia and the Aborigines in the Outback must be admired for their toughness.
Something that amazes me is the green patches on the top of Uluru. The pilot has only been here seven months, but he says it has been a very rainy year and that is probably why the plants are growing there. This you can’t see from the ground.
After circling Uluru, we fly over and around the cluster of rocks at Rata Tyuta. These have the layers of sediment stacked as they ought to be. Otherwise, the top is rounded like Uluru. On the way back, the pilot points out just outside the resort some white tents on platforms in a cluster by a huge white tent. This is an exclusive resort that is approximately $1,500 a night. Of course, you get pampered and feed gourmet food and wine, but just a little out of our price range. I bet they don’t have the fun I have that night as I enter the cabin and a wasp flies in with me. As I am swatting at him a HUGE cockroach dashes across the floor directly at my feet. I end up a screaming-idiot on a chair. Gallant Peter comes to my rescue with the handy bug spray and shots them both. An exciting end to a once-in-a-lifetime day.
My plane.
The Outback.
Uluru/Ayers Rock from the sky.
Uluru/Ayers Rock from the sky.
My camera giving up in the 44 degree heat.
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