Cute Fight!





Located 90 minutes drive south and east of Melbourne, Phillip Island contains four parks: the Koala Conservation Centre, Churchill Island Heritage Farm, the Nobbies Centre and the Penguin Parade.

The island is a not-for-profit organisation that generates revenue through its ecotourism activities.

On the bus tour I took, our first stop was the farm. It was a farm. The Nobbies Centre is made up of a few nobs sticking out of the ocean with seals sitting on them. They were too far away to see with the naked eye and the binoculars weren't working.

Next up, the koalas are most certainly cute, the way they hang in trees, munching. Just check out the baby sitting on his mother's lap in the photo. But as cute as that little guy is, it's the penguins that take home the cute prize.

The Penguin Parade
Take a waddle on the wild side
Little Penguins, also known as fairy penguins, are the smallest in the world. Thus, their name. They build burroughs in the sands near shore to house and feed their young. To feed themselves and their young, they go into the sea each day. To avoid predators, they leave their burroughs before sunrise and come home after sunset. So, they're very much like us, treading off to work each day in the dark and coming home each night. For us, a commute is hell due to the number of other people doing it at the same time. For the penguins, it's the birds of prey that might pluck them as they cross the light-coloured sand. Luckily, there's safety in numbers.

 

Their need to evade predators also creates a show -- or parade -- as thousands of these little guys race across the sand twice a day. To satisfy tourist curiosity, concrete stands have been built on the beach for the show. The public is permitted to watch their evening return, making this our last stop of the tour.

 

From the parking lot to the beach is a kilometre or so of boardwalks built high enough for the penguins to travel under. As you walk down toward the stands, the burrough holes are apparent, as are pathways around and to them.

 

It was 10C the night I went, with a brisk breeze blowing off the water. From my a front seat I enjoyed the sun's light play on the occasional cloud as it set off to our right. First coral, then orange, then fading to grey. All around me, people shivered and shook, huddling to keep warm, wondering how long this would take.

Then, at 8:45pm, silver flashes could be seen in the sea foam. Next, a troop of about 20 penguins began their waddle towards us.

 

These penguins stand about 33 cm, or just up to your mid-calf. Their backs are a dark blue, their tummies white. They seem to waddle in unison as they travel, with one brave soul leading the pack.  

First one group came, then another, then another.

The Penguin Rangers (now, isn't that a great job title?) do a count of these little guys for the first 50 minutes after dusk. This helps them to estimate total population numbers. The tourists... well, let's just say we didn't last that long in the cold. But we didn't have a hutch to sit in, or Canada Goose jackets to keep us warm, did we?

As you walk up the boardwalk, you realize the show isn't just down by the water.

Right below your feet and beside you as you walk on the boardwalk, the penguins charge onward, looking for their burroughs.

The young come out to greet them, squawking for food. Sometimes the little little ones attack a passing penguin they confuse as a parent. The children may confuse the adults, but an adult penguin knows their young, so they march on.

Penguins walked right beside me. They followed me up and up and up, right by my feet. They don't seem to mind us being there, although once in a while they stop at sounds, look around, then off they charge again.

Some penguins were seen waddling up as high as the parking lot. Our bus had to stop for five minutes to let a few cross the road. I started to wonder why they would build burroughs so far away from the sea. Perhaps it's like our suburbs, with the rich penguins taking the seaside spots and the others having to commute. Poor things.

To protect the penguins of Phillip Island, human homes were purchased and flattened, the grounds planted with natural habitat. The roads are closed at dusk each night, so the penguins don't get run over. Scientists monitor them and tag the odd one to see how far they travel on their daytime journeys.

And us, we get to enjoy their nightly parade.

 

One week left

I return to Canada Friday, November 30th.

I have one adventure I still need to post and one next week that may not get online until after I'm back.

Food

Fave restaurant:
The Moat: A small restaurant tucked under the State Library in Melbourne. A warm, bookish ambience, excellent wine selection and serving staff who always smile and know their stuff.

Fave dishes:
Venison carpacio with chocolate paint, schezuan pepper, balsamic jelly, barberry and watercress.

Jamon with creamed blue cheese and tiny figs.

Fast food chains I wish we had in Canada:

Snag Stand: Gourmet hot dogs slathered in surprising ingredients.

Breadilicious / Breadtop:  Two different chains, same basic model. The store is filled with plastic boxes of pastries: Asian sweet buns filled with curried pork; Croissant wrapped sausages; Coconut buns... Walk around with your tray and tongs, pick up a few nibbles and off you go for a picnic.

Pie Face:  Salty and sweet pies for take-away. Peppered steak, curry, stews. You name it, they'll stick it in a pie.

Nando's: Portuguese chicken. Kinda like Swiss Chalet but with heat. According to their website, there is on in Ottawa.

Cool and Funky Melbourne

Some of my favourite Melbourne things.

In Melbourne Central Mall there is a large clock that looks like a pocket watch. On its backside three koalas sit a teeter totter, apparently providing the power to make it tick.

At the strike of noon, a portion of the clock descends to reveal two flutists and birds on perches. They dance as it plays "Waltzing Matilda" and people like me snap photographs.

 

  Things in Melbourne just seem to pop up overnight. This hutch made of twigs appeared next to Federation Square, for instance.

Going inside is a tactile and olfactory adventure. 

Melbourne is having a music festival at present, and they've taken over an abandoned buiding, named it "Where?House" and thrown in a bar, cafe, some eateries and a concert hall. I saw someone dressed like Jack White there. Hrm.

RMIT university building has a digital motif made of what look like metal triangle cut-outs. These cuts out are coloured differently and angled, giving the impression of enlarged pixels, as if it's made of an oversized computer screen. From each perspective the colours change. Each darkened section in the image below is a balcony space with tables where students can study. Inside and outside intermingle in many ways, in this building. The front foyer has a coffee shop that is open to the public surrounded by neon green tables anc alcove. Off to one side is a triangular area open to the sky featuring palm trees. Glass walls expose lecture halls or student learning centres, which then have glass walls to the street. It is a building full of vibrant colours with neon green, red, blue and lots of black. I also like the way the whole facade frames an older Victorian structure beside it.

 

 

 

Adventure's End

Outback Adventure - Part 7
On the start of our trip, the van felt full of possibility.

Now it felt claustrophobic with our bags and their contents thick under our feet.

A drying towel over the back of a neighbour's seat was sending out wafts of mouldy smells. My swimsuit sat damp on the top of the backpack between my legs.

We were looking worn and dirty, too. My ankles were spackled so thickly with red sand they looked sunburt. And if I described how my scalp felt... well, you'd probabaly stop reading.

In the sun department, I seem to have won the sunscreen war. My arms received some tan, the hairs a blondish hue, but no skin was indelibly harmed on this adventure.

On the trip back, our guide Mark pointed out that if we wanted to kill someone, this would be the perfect place in the world to do it. All that's here is sand, rocks, insects and sky. In fact, he went on, many people have been murdered here and never found. We all nodded with feigned interest and concern.

The clan gathered at a saloon named Bojangles with Mark that night, all of us sparkling clean. Some of the girls even wore dresses. It was a lovely evening, but the clan in the city is not the clan in the bush.

I plucked out my iPhone, took it off Airplane mode and re-entered reality.

King's Canyon

Outback Adventure - Part 6
Another 4 am wake-up call and off we went to King's Canyon.

The first incline of our last hike at King's Canyon is nicknamed "Heart Attack Hill." With our requisite 1 litre of water bottle apiece, we stepped up and up and up.

The canyon peaks look like a series of domes made of pancake layers of red rock. It is as if many years ago giants were covered in mud and the wear of time, wind and water have left their bald heads standing.

We were taken through fossil-encrusted valleys, along the edge of a gorge and down into The Garden of Eden, a hidden valley with prehistoric plants and a singular water pool.

We walked across river beds that would have been full of fish where air now stood all around us. In thinking back to that time where water covered these surfaces, I could imagine the pillows and cushions of rushing rapids banking off a rock outcrop over here, spinning into eddies in a hollow there. The splashing spray of falls, both huge and small.

We scaled the cliffs up and down on precarious (to me) steps. At one point we were up in the heavens, seeing the red pancake heads go on to forever. Next we were at the edge of a cliff that fell away 500 metres into trees.

I said "Wow!" so many times, I think I wore out the "w" on my tongue.

Three hours later it's 10 am we were finished our last hike. It felt like 3 in the afternoon.

Remember how it rained the night before this hike? Given that, do you see anything odd in this picture?
Like perhaps, the wee puddle of water left after a good hour of drenching? This earth is like a sponge.

 

Desert Storm

Outback Adventure - Part 5
P O P   Q U I Z !

As mentioned at the beginning of my journey, when was the last time it rained in Alice Springs?

a) October
b) August
c) June
d) April

If you guessed April, you win a prize!

It is a desert-ish place, so rain is not a common thing. Thus, the river beds full of nothing but sand.

So, imagine our surprise and delight  at seeing the the distant sky polka dotted with clumps of black clouds trailing vertical tendrils of rain and spitting lightning. We were driving toward our next hiking destination, Kings Canyon. At first, the clouds seemed quite far off, then water droplets pinged the van window and we stopped to pull a hole-dotted tarp over our swags. We also gathered some fire wood for a camp fire. Yes, we were optimists with a holy tarp (not religious).

(Sorry. Bad pun, couldn't help myself.)

At the camp we had a swim and set up camp. We were just picking out our swag spots around the campfire when the sky changed. A black wall enveloped the distant mountain range and rolled toward us, growling and shaking the earth.

As you can see in the photos here, one minute kinda cloudy, the next... uh oh.

In "Uh Oh" camping moments, everyone jumps to action. The swags were tossed into the shed, towels and clothes were stripped off the trees where they were drying, the barbecue pulled under the tarp.

None of this activity ceased the enjoyment of a beer, as you can see Ian (from Taiwan) doing above right. A camel wandering around nearby seemed to be smiling as he continued his grazing.

As if on cue, when all was put away, the rain began to fall. But "rain" and "fall" are too mild for what we were experiencing. All around us machine gun bullets of water blasted from the sky, one minute from the north, then the south, then the west. We stood laughing as we watched the show.

Rivers began to flow between our feet, so shovels  re-arranged the sand and directed the streams around us.

After a good 30-minute downpour, the clouds moved off and we re-commenced making dinner. The fire was built up, our potatoes were wrapped in foil and tossed in, kangaroo sausages and emu burgers were thrown on the barbie, and our evening returned to normal.

Just as we were bedding down, another downpour commenced. Some moved into the van, others into the shed, several of us moved under the tarp and I fell asleep to the insistent howls of wind, the swag hood flipped over my head as ants bit my right hand.

Well, at least it was ants and not red-back spiders.

Next up, our hike at Kings Canyon.
 

A Hike at Kata Tjuta

Outback Adventure - Part 4
The stars were still sparkling when Mark roused us at 4am. As the swags around me shivered to life, I blinked up at the rising moon and the Southern Cross in the spot Bjorn said it would be.

Cereal, coffee, tea and juice were quickly consumed and our swags lashed to the top of the trailer. Twenty people accounted for in the van Mark turned to us and sang, "Everybody ready to see some more big rocks?" Of course we responded in the affirmative and off we headed to see Kata Tjuta.

Located 25 km east of Uluru, Kata Tjuta is made up of a number of intertwining globules of rock that are both similar and different to Uluru. After a twenty minute drive, our van pulled into a parking lot full of buses. Bjorn sped up a path of red sand first, focusing his large camera, a black camera bag bumping on his back with each step.

Click, click, click, click, click.

We arrived at a viewing perch full of another murder of tourists. Or at least, that's what Kate and I decided a bunch of tourists should be called: A murder of tourists.

From the perch we could see Uluru in the distance at right and Kata Tjuta straight ahead as the sun began to rise behind us.

What did I sign up for, some kind of buddhist retreat? All this sun rising and setting. Next we'd be using our swags as yoga mats and shaking scorpions off our wrists as we did downward facing dog on the sand dunes.

I'm sorry; I'm making this sound very commercial. Parts of it certainly are, such as these run-ins with other groups. But the hikes, the nights at our campsite, are all about us as a group and the experience we share in this unique place. And even at this perch, I must admit that the sun rising over Kata Tjuta is spectacular.



Panorama of Kata Tjuta with and without tourists.

The mounds of Kata Tjuta wrap in around and beside each other, a chorus singing to the sky. As we admired and clicked, our four guides chatted off to the side. One of them, nicknamed Ausie Guide by our group, was quite the character. A man's man with thick black hair that sprouts in thick curls out of every follicle. His head of hair is kept like a massive mop, pointing in every direction. He wore beige shorts so tight and short you could see his substantial cojones and associated plumbing in iMax 3D. He wore socks high up on his knees above elephantine hiking boots and spoke with a voice that reverberated through the desert dunes. For the guys it was man-love, as they couldn't stop talking about this guy for the rest of the trip.

As the sun finished rising we were ushered back to the van, counted again and off we headed for our hike.

Kata Tjuta isn't made smooth sandstone like Uluru. These rock formations are composed of conglomerate, a rock consisting of boulders and small stones of varying rock types cemented together by a cement-like sandstone. We begin the Valley of the Winds walk, a 7.4km circuit that will take about 3.5 hours. From the carpart we follow one path uphill, our ankles teetering across the uneven footings, then down the valley and around in between the folds of rock.


Two adult kangaroos and one joey graced us with their presence at the first lookout then sprinted off into the bush.



Colleen at Karingana Lookout with
her precious bottle of water. It's windy!

We walked down the steep steps into valleys and across creek beds then up to the Karingana Lookout, where the picture of me was taken. Then we went down to the Valley of the Winds, which is named quite appropriately. As in, it was windy.

It was at this point that my camera card got full and I was doing the on-the-go delete game, where you have to decide which photos of rocks to keep and which to delete. Tough going! Otherwise I would have pictures of this valley. Perhaps even a panorama from all angles. But it wasn't to be for this hike.

In part 5 of this adventure, we got a very special surprise! I'll try to get it up in a couple of days.

 

Australian Camping

Outback Adventure - Part 3

The trailer pulled by the van held more than backpacks. It was a seemingly magical box, as each of its three doors - back, and two sides - held surprises. There were two coolers (esky in local parlance*), a full scale barbecue; pots and pans; cups, plates and cutlery; cleaning bins and products; enough food for 21 very hungry people for 3 full days (9 meals); and on top, 21 swags.

We pulled up to our campsite for the night in the dark and were given a lesson in how to unroll and roll a swag.


A swag is a canvas sleeping bag with a plastic bottom, a light mattress and a flap that you can flip over your head in the case of a light rain - highly unlikely given where we were. Inside we found a sleeping bag and a light pillow.

Our swag lesson complete, the group set to camp. It turned out we had a great group in that everyone took on a role to help out. No complainers or whiners or stick-in-the-muds.

The three Brits who had moved to San Francisco to work for Yahoo! set up the barbecue and cooked the food. Elvis from Zimbabwe and Rachel from England chopped veggies. Kate from Ireland who now lives in London, set up the buffet. Bjorn, an astronomer, pointed out stars.

Within an hour a chicken stir fry was hot on our plates and the questions began.

So, we're sleeping out under the stars, right? What about snakes? Spiders? Dingoes? Man-eating ants?

Yes, you're sleeping under the stars, Marc told us. He also told us that he would sleep on the camping table, which made some of us nervous.

Yes, there are snakes. This area is home to the second most deadly snake in the world. But they won't bother you unless you bother them. Yes, there are spiders. This area is home to the second most deadly spider in the world, the red back. There's probably one sitting under the bench right now. But they won't bother you unless you bother them. Dingoes? Yes, and they'll steal your shoes whle you sleep if you're not careful. Ants? Yes, they're everywhere. Ants are the most organized creature on the planet. They may take it over one day.

I sprayed the deet-based bug spray, Bushman's, on the ground around my swag and put my shoes in at my toes. It was warm, but dry, the scent of eucalyptus swept past with each breeze, and stars I'd never seen before sparkled in the sky. It wasn't long before I was asleep.

* "esky" = eskimo? If anyone knows, leave a comment.

Uluru

Outback Adventure - Part 2

Alice time is one and a half hours behind Melbourne, half an hour behind Brisbane. My laptop was set to Melbourne time, my phone picked up Brisbane time, while the clock radio on the bedside table said a half hour earlier.

Welcome to Wonderland! If I was time zone dyslexic before, now I was truly spinning.

A van stopped in front of the hotel at 6:20 Brisbane am / 5:50 Alice am. A tall, slender man jumped out and introduced himself as Mark. An hour later, the van held 18 adventurers from around the world and the van headed into the outback for a 3-day, 2-night camping trip, complete with Australia swags and lots of  barbies (barbecues, that is, not the dolls).

As we drove, I soon learned why I saw river beds from the plane. The river beds are there, but they're full of sand, not water. The centre of Australia receives approximately 150 mm of rain per year, on average. Mark told us that it hadn't rained in this area since April.

The trees are desert oaks, their seeds germinated by intense heat, either by the sun or fire. On germination, roots reach down until they find the water table and then the plant begins to grow. The Oz desert runs in a cycle of drought, fire, rain and then more drought. The fire part is natural, and used to be started religiously by the aboriginals. When this was stopped, the brush fires became uncontrollable, so recently controlled burns have started again.

We drove four hours (450 km) through a landscape of brush, sand, insects and sky. Then, Uluru (Ayers Rock) appeared on the horizon.

You've seen the image of Uluru in movies, on t-shirts and in music videos for good reason. This rock is one huge mother of ancient sandstone.

Imagine a rock scarf three times as large as Centre Island in Toronto and rising to the top of the main pod of the CN Tower. That is the scale of Uluru. It is made of velvety folds of red rock descending toward you, striped black where water falls when it does rain.

It is a sensuous presence, undulating up, down and over. One side features pock marks, including a section that looks like a cross-section of a human skull, complete with brain. Folds hold the dark marks left by rain water and deep concave pools formed by eons of wind and water. I feel as if I am walking around a single being. There are similar rock formations in the red centre of Australia. Either because of this seeming singularity of Uluru, or because the aboroginals do not share their stories and mythology of the other places, Uluru gets all of the screen and tourist time.


We were first taken to the cultural centre, where we learned about the local aborigonals, the Anangu, their laws and the dream time, when Uluru and the people were created.




Uluru, our Emu Run Van (right) and shade hut.

Discouraging a climb of Uluru is a repeated theme of the materials for cultural, environmental and safety reasons. Uluru is a sacred site to Anangu. Climbing it is arduous, damages the sandstone surface, and has led to 38 deaths.

I went into one room and sat to watch a video of a woman dancing in traditional costume. Her breasts were exposed, painted with white stripes. The subtitle read, "Please replace the lamp." The video changed to two men dancing with spears and the subtitle remained. The video changed again to some children. Same subtitle.

Back in the van, I said, "You know, because of that subtitle, I thought the videos were all about oil lamps. But I'm thinking it was an instruction to change the lamp in the projector." Laughter erupted as everyone share how they had the same realization.

Due to the extreme heat, most of our group took brief strolls in specific points around the rock, resting in the shade areas sipping water. Flies buzz around our heads, but not the biting variety. Just regular house flies, but a lot of them. The couple from Chicago managed to walk the 10.6 km around the base of Uluru in the blasting, mid-day sun.

At sunset the true nature of the industry known as Uluru becomes apparent, as bus after bus arrive at the Sunset Viewing area. A long line of tables covered in white linen are set with sparkling wine glasses, surrounded by plates of cheeses and fruits. Of the 700 or so lined up to watch as the sun made its way down, some were seated in comfy chairs, other lined up along the fence.

Our camping group had sparkling out of plastic camping glasses, which was fine by me. As we enjoyed our snacks and wine, my guess is that 1400 photos were taken per minute. We were there for an hour and a half, so you do the math. Keep in mind, I'm probably underestimating.

At 8pm we packed up and headed for our campsite for the night and dinner. But that's for another post.

 

 

Colleen in Alice-land

Outback Adventure - Part 1 

It's a two and a half hour flight from Melbourne to the red centre of Australia. Out the plane window I saw the curvy tendrils of river beds, the telltale greens of trees and foliage. The colour palette is made up of red ochres, sage greens and mustard yellows, echoing the colours of aboriginal paintings. 



 

 

Image source

Tuesday, November 6 is a statutory holiday in the state of Victoria. The holiday is for a horse race called the Melbourne Cup. The locals get quite revved about this event. Girls buy dresses, shoes, fascinators, spend a day at the spa in preparation. Then everyone gathers for a day of fashion, betting, drinking and one 2-minute horse race. I was more interested in seeing the country than a drink up, so I booked the Monday off and headed out for a 4-day adventure.

Most of the Australian population lives along the vast coast line. And who can blame them, with beaches like I saw at Noosa. Everything in the middle is desert-ish. The emptiest place in the world. An easy place to hide a body, I was to learn.

And yet, what is it with the river beds?

With its outdoor cafe and canope covered walkways, the Alice Springs airport reminds me of a resort. The musky scent of eucalyptus is in the air. Heat presses on my shoulders like five pound weights. The wool jacket, so necessary in Melbourne, is now a burden.

Downtown Alice is... well... small. Much like the one-horse northern Ontario towns of Cochrane or Espanolla, it's made up of few streets. There are a couple of malls a few bars and not much else.

Aboriginals pad the streets aimlessly. Some sit, cross-legged on the grass, their dark eyes focused on some sad interior place.

After a dinner of kangaroo at the Red Ochre Grill, I get to bed at 9pm, hoping I don't sleep through my alarm and miss my 5:45 am pick-up. I think this is early. Ha! 5:45 is sleeping in compared to what I'll go through over the coming mornings.

In this country apparently, adventure is an early riser.