Melbourne to Sydney

The extent of the recent bush firers (many of which are still burning), was evident as we exited Melbourne to the east – the sky was hazy and the hills in the distance a pale grey silhouette. Our plan was to make it over to Lakes Entrance, and I thought it would be interesting to loop down to follow the coast road. The trouble is that the coast road is rarely near enough to the coast to actually see it, and instead you get an extra two hours of driving through god-forsaken towns.














Lakes Entrance is a quaint little town, with a foot bridge over the lagoon to the sand spit of Ninety Mile Beach. We bought fish 'n' chips (or in my case veggie burger 'n' chips), with the intention of eating them on the lagoon front. However, predictably enough, within two seconds of opening the bag, twenty sea gulls descended with their beady eyes straight out of a Hitchcock film. We retreated to the safety of the hostel.














The next day, making no unnecessary detours, we crossed the boarder back into NSW, and made straight for Eden, and its Killer Whale Museum (the woman let us in for half the normal $12 admittance because it was 35 minutes from closing, but quirky as it is, 20 minutes is enough). The beach at Eden fairly good, one you've had your fill of Whale stories.

Our finally destination was Merimbula, just north of Eden. A little before dusk, the local Kangaroo population make their way to the caravan park and housing estate to graze on the front lawns. At one point I counted 50 or so munching away in what was otherwise a normal suburban setting (of course it is normal for round here, just odd for us). When approached the entire mob will stand up and stare in the same direction, rather like a troop of oversized meerkats. The Kangaroos can also be seen keeping the grass short on the golf course.














We'd planned to spend the last night before returning to Sydney in Jervis Bay. Unfortunately Jervis Bay was playing host to a large triathlon over the weekend, which had hoovered up all the accommodation. So after a quick look around, we carried on to Wollongong. This was somewhat of a mistake, and we found ourselves checking in to a YHA that was part of the university halls of residence. I'm sure the place has its charms, but we needed to be back in Sydney early, so didn't really hang around to find them.

Melbourne

I will start this entry with a short rant: Having come from a superb hostel in Apollo Bay, the Cooee on St Kilda felt like an open prison for backpackers. Everywhere there are signs saying that stealing is a crime – if you actually need to be told this, then something is very wrong. There's no crockery or cutlery in the kitchen, but for a $10 deposit the surly staff on reception will hand you a cup, bowl, plate, knife, folk and spoon. Meanwhile, outside the hostel, crack-whores plied their trade (it made me homesick for Whitechapel). I could go on, but you get the picture.














For our first evening out, we met up with our friend Jade (who we met in Borneo), in Fitzroy. Now Melbourners like to boast about their tram system, but going from St Kilda in the south to Fitzroy in the north, took over an hour – a similar journey on the much derided London Underground would take 15 minutes.

Fitzroy is basically Shoreditch transported to the southern hemisphere. Our meeting pub, Bimbo's Bar, was a dark affair, with the obligatory lack of a name sign, old comfy leather sofas, and a music selection that could have been ripped straight off my iPod. On Monday's they do $5 pizza. Yummm.




















The next day, after getting medicals for our Madagascar expedition, we wandered around the city taking in Melbourne's famed cafe culture, before flopping down on the water's edge in front of Federation Square to watch the boat crews train.














Not wanting to cook with the other inmates at our hostel, we ventured into the heart of St Kildas for some well earned posh food. We somehow found ourselves in what is supposedly Melbourne's best Italian restaurant for Kirsten's belated birthday dinner.

The Grampians and the Great Ocean Road

Running somewhat short of time, we set ourselves up for another mammoth drive down to Halls Gap in the Grampians. The most tedious part of this was the 300km return trip to Mildura, and the only thing that broke the tedium was hitting a bird – I assumed it just bounced off, but after we'd parked outside the cafe in Mildura, I found a very mangled bird wedged in the grill.














After lunch in Mildura, we were making good progress south, when I accentually got clocked doing 123 in a 100 zone. When the cop handed over the $240 fine, he pointed out that if I didn't pay it absolutely nothing would happen – result. So finally we reached our hostel in Halls Gap at dusk. As we prepared dinner, kangaroos bounced around on the lawn outside, and a German girl wittered away endlessly on Skype.

The Grampians are another attractive range of bush covered hills, with stunning views and (apparently) great hikes. Our timetable didn't allow for anything but driving to a couple of the better lookouts, and short walks. The area suffered some serious fires a few years ago (of course the rest of Victoria is currently suffering a large number of deadly bush fires), and the green leaves shooting out from blackened trees is rather odd.

The second part of the day's plan was to drop straight down to the coast, then take the B100 Great Ocean Road along to Apollo Bay. Having left the Grampians it was another couple of hours before we finally reached the coast at Warrnambool. From there the road immediately goes back inland, hitting the coast again at Peterborough (as unlovable as its namesake), before becoming a proper coast road. On this stretch you are bombard with lookout points, some better than other, before reaching the pinnacle of the Twelve Apostles (pun intended). There are actually only eight stacks, and after taking the standard set of photos, we completed the long drive round to Apollo Bay. Our hostel here (YHA Eco Beach) must set the gold standard for how hostels should be designed and run.

After talking to the guy on reception, it turned out we'd overshoot the Koalas, who like to hang out on the road down to Cape Otway, several miles back the other way. Fortunately the Koalas are not hard to spot – you just pull up behind the collection of badly parked campervans and there they are. Koalas eat nothing but eucalyptus leaves, which provide minuscule amounts of energy, meaning they have evolved tiny brains (most of their skull is filled with cerebrospinal fluid, rather than actual brain), and sleep 20 hours a day – still they're ever so cute.














Koalas ticked off the list, we hugged the coast as far as Torquay (Kirsten of course wanted to hug a Koala), before diving inland to Melbourne.

Outback NSW

After nearly a week in Australia and not even a glimpse a kangaroo I was beginning to think they might just be one big Aussie hoax. To try and resolve this once and all we decided to head to the outback to find some. After loading the car up with 15 litres of emergency water we headed out west on the Stuart Highway. The plan was to just keep going until we got too tired. 800km and 8 hours later we decided it was time to stop. Luckily this also coincided with a reasonably large town with plenty of motels.














Our home for the night was Mildura, which sitting on the banks the River Murray, is an incredibly fertile area. After hours of driving through a semi-desert environment with, well, pretty much nothing to see for miles, it is a bit of a surprise to see endless hectares of citrus orchards and vineyards. As a result of the importance of fruit in this area a Fruit Fly Exclusion Zone has been established. As you approach you are bombarded with signs asking you to eat or throw away all your fruit and that not doing so risks a maximum $10,000 fine. Richard refused to ditch the tomatoes, and was busily practising the “tomatoes are fruit? Really?” line.

Our intended destination was Mungo National Park, so the next day we made the 110km journey out into the wilderness. Finally, this was the Australia I had imagined – flat, red arid landscape complete with the odd rusty broken down car and not much else. The road to Mungo is unsurfaced but is pretty good quality so is not too much of a problem unless you get stuck in a rut or brake to quickly. Although, if it rains it is apparently impassable.















As accommodation is limited within the park, and as a treat for my birthday, we checked in to the relatively luxurious Mungo Lodge. We were very privileged to be the only guests, and it would have been pretty perfect sitting on the verandah drinking G&T and watching the wallabies jump past if it was for the darn flies. OK, they weren't kangaroos but close enough.










The big draw of Mungo is an area of white sand dunes, known as The Walls of China. These were once the banks of a now long dried up lake. The area is viewed by completing a 70km driving loop. After only passing one car the entire day you realise that carrying that spare water wasn't a stupid idea after all. The Mungo area has World Heritage status given it has been inhabited continuously for over 400 centuries and has the oldest archaeological finds in Australia including human skeletons dating back 46,000 years or possibly even more. I, however, was much more excited by the animal inhabitants and was able to get up close and personal with the wallabies and catching a fleeting sight of an emu. The Walls of China are best photographed at dawn and sunset so we headed back in the evening to catch the event. Unfortunately the flies also decided to join us.














Having not yet had our fill of the outback we decided to drive to Broken Hill. This is mere 300km north of Mildura on a road with practically no bends and nothing to see. Our first though on arrival was why on earth we were there. Being a mining town (sliver, lead and zinc) it certainly isn't pretty. It really does feel like you have come to the back of beyond – which is of course it's attraction. We paid a quick visit to Silverton, now a virtual ghost town, which is home to a pub which was featured in many films and adverts, most notably Mad Max II and the XXXX adds. Again, this allows for many photo opportunities of the Australian outback that you imagine.














It being my birthday we ventured out in the evening to one of the most popular clubs in town. With rows upon rows of slot machines and a country music band made up of local teachers this was a pretty classy affair. I was actually greeted by someone with: “you're not from 'round here are you”. However, after a few too many G&Ts, we got into the spirit, chatted with the locals and boogied on the dance floor – hopefully making it worth having to do the return 300km journey the next day.

Canberra

Canberra was laid out in a bygone era, when the car was king, and the prospect of walking anywhere inconceivable. As a result Canberra is a series of concentric ring-roads and radial spurs, connecting the municipal buildings in the centre to the several large suburbs. In between is green space and an ornamental lake – I'm sure the town planners envisaged a city with the feel of living in the country. What they got was Milton Keens with MPs.

The principle reason for visiting Canberra was to catch up with our Trans-Siberia buddy, Narelle, who is visiting her parents before returning to London. Most Australians seem bemused as to why you'd go there, but two nights of free accommodation is better than a kick in the arse. Narelle's parents live in the suburb of Woden. They provided us with a very warm welcome, and more importantly after 7 months of travelling, the chance to veg on the sofa and catch up on series 5 of Desperate House wives.

The next day we decided that maybe we should take in some of Canberra's tourist attractions. This consisted of a tour of parliament house given by an Oompa-Loompa masquerading as a university student. She jumped up and down, and spewed unnecessary enthusiasm as she guided us through Canberra's colourful history via the building's architecture.


















After the tour, we sat in first on the House of Representatives, and then the Senate. Both houses were almost deserted; the Commons were debating (if one man talking to an empty room can be classed as a debate) the ratification of the new Red Crystal symbol; while in the Senate, the opposition were presenting a series of nonsense arguments against the stimulus package.


Rather than go out to sample buzzing Canberra on a Tuesday night, we decided unanimously to stay in, make our own pizza, and watch crap TV. Perfect. After 2 days of living the unemployed-living with-your-parents life, it was time to hit the road again for the 500 mile drive to Mildura – gateway to the outback.

On a technical point, I've change the comments settings so you no longer need to register to leave your offensive remarks .

The Blue Mountains

Our seven weeks in New Zealand exceeded my best expectations – it is a truly beautiful place; a continent's worth of scenery compacted into an area not much bigger than the UK. That said, it was time to move on to a place a great deal bigger than the UK.














Our first port of call was a brief visit to Sydney (we'll go back in a few weeks for a longer visit). We met my friend Glen in a sports bar in Pyrmont, before decamping to his flat overlooking Darling Harbour. After sipping some sparkling wine on the balcony, I contemplated the folly of returning to Blighty.














We did the touristy things that you tend not to when you live in a city: took the ferry from Darling Harbour, under the harbour bridge, round to Circular Quay; had drinks and nibbles in a bar under the shadow of the Opera House; then spent $18 a pop on cocktails.

We picked up our new hire car (a tiny, under powered, Hyundai Getz) in Kings Cross, then underwent a comedy of errors trying to get the sat-nav to direct us through the harbour tunnel (I had to drop my camera for repair in a trading estate in North Sydney). Two hours later, and we'd picked up our bags and joined the back of the queue out of Sydney.

The destination was Katoomba in the Blue Mountains. The hope was that the temperature would drop – it didn't. We started at Echo Point, which gives rather good view from the edge of the plateaux to the valley below. However by 10:30am, it was already far too hot – time for a nice long walk. Nine hundred and sixty steps takes you down to the valley floor, via the stone pinnacles of the Three Sisters. An hour or so along the (thankfully) partially shaded valley, and you reach three options for your assent: 1000+ steps; a cable -car; and the world's steepest funicular. We took the 52° funicular.














A glass-bottomed cable-car, and a cliff walk, and we were back at the car. Unfortunately the inside of the car was now so hot I couldn't touch the steering wheel without inflicting severe burns on my hands – I miss New Zealand.














The next day we decided that leaving the air-conditioned cocoon of the car for any length of time was a bad idea. We drove to a couple of good look out points, and into the carefully named Megalong Valley, before looping down to the Jenolan Caves. When the mercury is shooting past 40°, the natural air-conditioning of caves is just wonderful. The caves are also quite pretty.














We spent our third night in Bathurst, and took in the towns T-Rex in the Australian Fossil & Mineral Museum in the morning, before dropping south to Canberra.

The Coromandel

Each time I go back to New Zealand I like to do a short pilgrimage back to the area I used to live in until I was around 5 – The Coromandel. Given that this is a stunning area of white-sand beaches and untamed native bush it's not too much of a hardship. I remember my mum telling me that she and my dad had a choice of moving here or a kiwi fruit plantation – they definitely made the right choice.

Our first stop, Tiarua, was where I used to live. Twenty five years ago this was a very small settlement with not much more than a post office. If it rained to much and the bridge flooded, our only source of milk was from the local farm. It is now a popular tourist destination with dozens of holiday homes and the requisite cute cafes. However, it's beach (predictably named Ocean Beach) remains a gorgeous sweep of empty white sand backed by sand dunes and dramatic cliffs. I think it still gets my vote as one of my favourite beaches in the world. We stayed the night in Tiarua, allowing for an evening stroll and a spot of swimming the next morning. We also paid a visit to my very first school and stood on the playing field were many years ago my pet sheep (predictably called Wooly) came last in the the pet show. He was a grubby brown colour when everyone else's was sparkling white – who would know that you need to wash them with Persil.
















We spent the next couple of nights a little up the coast in Whitianga. This served as a good base for visit two of Coromandel's most popular attractions – Hot Water Beach and Cathedral Cove. Whilst the hoards of tourists meant it was impossible to create the pictures I have of me as a kid on deserted beaches, both are definitely still worth a visit.

Hot Water Beach is best visited at low tide as this is when it's namesake thermal hot water is accessible. We dutifully turned up about an hour or so before, at 6pm, with our spades, to be greeted by the very entertaining site of around 100 people desperately digging holes in the sand and building walls to protect them from the tide, which had not yet fully retreated. Rich started digging and and nearly made it back through to the UK before I convinced him that the hole wasn't in the right place to get any hot water. We then tried the much more effective tactic of helping someone else with a hot hole enlarge theirs. Much warmer and much more sociable. We then sat back, chatted with the other tourists and laughed at people sitting in the pools of cold water dug in the wrong place, only to give up and walk over the burning hot trickle of water next to our pool.














The next day we visited Cathedral Cove. After around 30 minute walk from the car park you arrive at a lovely white-sand beach with massive limestone arch which unsurprisingly looks a little like a cathedral. It is Despite the hoards it is still worth a visit.

Having not yet had our fill of beaches, we decided to fit in a couple more on our way back to Auckland. First stop was Kuaotuna which is an attractive long stretch of sand. This was however completely surpassed by the stunning beaches of Otama and Opito. Virtually empty with pristine white sand and crystal blue waters these are definitely worth the drive over the windy unsurfaced road to get to them. After a picturesque drive through the Coromandel Mountains and a coffee in the quaint old gold town of Coromandel, we arrived back in Auckland.














Our final night in New Zealand was spent with my cousin Julia and boyfriend John in typical kiwi style with a BBQ. We are very sad to be leaving and are sure we could have spent even longer here, but our next destination awaits.

Tongariro Crossing

Having relatives scattered throughout New Zealand paid off again as we were able to crash with my cousins Dylan and Nick in their place, which is excellently located with great views over Wellington. Unfortunately we were not so lucky with the weather and for the first time for as long as I can remember we actually had to wear jackets.













The first night Dylan took us out on the town to sample a couple of Wellington's many bars on Cuba Street and Courtney place. This meant I felt a little jaded the next day so we settled for a gentle walk around town, taking in the improbably steep streets with houses clinging to the cliffs for dear life, the redeveloped dock area and the cable car up to the Botanical gardens. We also paid a brief visit to the Te Papa, the 'Museum of New Zealand' to see its latest attraction the disappointingly small Colossal Squid.















We then headed back to Hawkes Bay to see my Granny again, and after brief stop in Napier to see the Art Deco architecture, we arrived back in Taupo. We enjoying some more of my Aunt Rose's hospitality with a BBQ on the lake front, and the next day we headed back to the mountains and to Tongariro National Park, to walk what is often claimed to be one of New Zealand's best day treks. The walk is 13 miles across spectacular volcanic scenery including stunning emerald lakes and dramatic craters. I think I'll let the photos do the talking.















The walk took us 8 hours, which is about what the guides indicate. We were lucky as the weather was spectacular so it felt pretty pointless carrying our fleeces and rain coats, but as the track reaches 1,900m and weather can change very quickly its necessary to be prepared.















For the most part the track is well marked and reasonably easy going. That is until you get to the summit of the Red Crater where the track becomes a scree slope. This basically means you have to slide down the other side which given the steep drops and either sides didn't do much to help my vertigo! Anyway, with much help from Rich I somehow managed to get through. From the last hut, it's a full two hours downhill to the car park - even if you don't have soar knees at the start of this, you do by the end.















The track is one way so you need to organise for someone to pick you up at the other end. We timed it to perfection and arrived at the end of the track dead on the time our mini bus was scheduled to pick us up. A short ride with several other very smelly treckers and we were back with our car for the drive back to Taupo and a much needed gin and tonic. Many thanks again to Rose for her hospitality.