The Ghan

The Ghan is one of Australia's two trans-continental railway lines – running south to north, from Adelaide, through Alice Springs, and up to Darwin. The route was found by Afghan trackers (using imported camels) in order to lay a telegraph wire to link Adelaide to the Empire – hence the name of the original Adelaide to Alice route; the Afghan Express.

These days, the standard gauge line, to the west of the original, is unashamedly a tourist attraction. Darwin to Alice is a mere 23 hours, so we decided to go for the cheapest option of the red-class seat. The train doesn't exactly rocket along the tracks, and four hours after leaving Darwin, we pulled into Katherine.



















Here the train sits for four hours, giving you the choice of wandering round a small godforsaken outback town (although the third biggest in the Northern Territory), joining a boat tour of the Katherine Gorge, or a helicopter flight over it. We opted for the boat trip, and were joined by sixty members of club 80 to 130 from gold-class.














If you're in the area, the Katherine Gorge is certainly worth a visit (you can do it as a day trip out of Darwin). Katherine itself is a major stop for big Oz road trips, although you'd have had to been away from civilisation a long time to contemplate a long stay.














We didn't see much of the town except the supermarket were we were dropped off to buy supplies for the onward journey. Due to the Northern Territory intervention act – aimed at reducing alcoholism in the indigenous community – everyone must produce photo ID, which is scanned, in order to buy alcohol. Back on the train with freshly bought cold beer and sparkling wine, we chugged off into the night.














We arrived bang on time, at 9am, into Alice. If they did away with the six hours of stops, and ran the train at 80mph rather than the pedestrian 50mph, the Darwin – Alice leg could be done in under 12 hours, but then you might as well save another 10 hours (and quite a bit of money) and fly it. The days of the old Ghan are long gone – where trains could be stranded for weeks due to flooding or termites eating the sleepers, sometimes forcing the driver to shoot wildlife to feed the passengers. However, if you do have a romantic attachment to long train journeys, why not?

North Queensland and Darwin

Due to a slight fiasco with a beached dive boat, we only made it as far as Townsville for an overnight stop. The next day we continued on up the coast to our northern most destination of Port Douglas. Here we had a relaxing two nights chilling out by the pool, checking out the many cafes, bars and boutiques on the very cute main street, and escaping the humidity with the in-room air conditioning. The relaxed vibe was however dampened slightly by the sand flies that covered me with red blotches and the crocodiles and stinging jelly fish that make swimming the sea a perilous experience.


Our last two nights in Queensland were spent in the tourist Mecca of Cairns. Most people use Cairns as a base for short snorkelling or diving trips on the Great Barrier Reef. Unfortunately unless you go on a (expensive) multi-day live-aboard to the outer reef, the stuff that can be reached from Cairns is reputedly rather shit. With this in mind, we spent the day in Cairn's jellyfish free, artificial saltwater lagoon.















Finally we ditched the car and flew to Darwin, our first experience of the Northern Territory. After barely recovering from its Japanese bombardment in WWII, Darwin was levelled by Cyclone Tracy in 1974 – as a result the architecture is less than inspiring. We decided to check out the newly developed dock area scheduled to be opened in 2008. Unfortunately this had not yet been finished so we had to view the impressive looking multi-million dollar development of flats, hotels and swimming lagoon from behind the fences.

The SS Yongala

The SS Yoangala, along with its 122 passengers and crew, sank without trace in a cyclone around the 23rd March 1911 on its way from Birsbane to Townsville. It lay on its starboard side in 30m of water on the sandy bottom, undisturbed until its discovery by divers in 1958 (it was picked up on the sonar of a US navy minesweeper in 1943 and marked down as a reef).















Over the 98 years since its sinking it has become an almost ideal artificial reef – being the only reef structure in the immediate area, it has become home to a huge range of marine life, from schools of small colourful fish, to turtles and sharks.















Cyclone Hamish had blown through, but another tropical low was forming, and the sea was choppy – the boats weren't leaving from Townsville due to the swell. Our dive boat was a large inflatable (10 divers) which launched from the beach. After we'd cleared the breakers (which took some time), the skipper opened up the twin engines and things really got bumpy.















Only one bloke actually threw up on the 30 minute theme park ride out to the dive site (although a few others looked like they'd join him soon enough). Kitting up in a 2 metre swell was no fun at all, so it was a relief to get into the water and down the mooring line.















At 16m you reach the top of the wreak (at this depth it's all calm) and it becomes clear why this is such a highly rated site. The destiny and diversity of the marine life is incredible, and even though the crappy weather meant the light was poor, I can imagine that on a sunny day the display of colours will match any of the natural reefs.















The surface interval was one of the more unpleasant hours I've spent – the bloke from the way out spent the time with his head in a bucket, while one of the dive masters threw up over the back. Back in the water, we saw turtles and a nurse shark, while the other group spotted a Bull Shark :-(















The return trip was comedy of errors as the skipper managed to beach the boat near the shore, and the ten of us ended up waist deep in the water trying to heave-ho the boat over a sand bank.

The, uh, Sunshine Coast

Cyclone Hamish had been down graded, but it was still dumping miserable weather on the Sunshine Coast. We spent the night at pretty Noosa, the antithesis to Surfers Paradise. We sat on the promenade eating chips and watching the surfers braving the massive breakers – all very well 'til that big wave soaked us and the chips.
















With no chance of the weather improving, we decided to bin Fraser Island, and get as far up the coast as possible. This turned out to be Emu Park. With a good hostel across the road from the beach, this would have been a nice place to spend a few days, except for the never-ending rain. Things had to get better, so we booking in for three days sailing around the Whitsunday Islands, and schlepped it up to Airlie Beach.

We arrived at our hastily chosen 'party' hostel in time to grab some food and hit the foam party. Nether of us had been to a foam party before, but provided you've drunk enough, they can be surprisingly good fun. We had a day to recover in town, before boarding our yacht, the Waltzing Matilda.



















Things did not go off to a promising start, as the Matilda's 14 passengers and 2 crew sailed off into the rain, making a miserable picture sat on deck in rain coats (below deck was too hot and stuffy to stick). By the afternoon the sun had poked through, and it was time for the first snorkelling trip. Unfortunately, this far north, the jellyfish can kill you (or at least inflict so much pain you wish you'd died), so you're forced to wear a rather fetching stinger-suit. Added to this, the passing of Hamish had reduced visibly down to a metre, making the snorkelling rather a damp squib.
















Fortunately the weather stayed good for the next two days, as we lazed around on deck soaking up the sun, with brief interruptions to eat, hike up hills for fantastic views, and lay on stunning white beaches. Our evenings were spent anchored in sheltered bays, drinking the BYO wine (fortunately we'd brought 4 litres), and playing party games – Kirsten came third in the pick-a-piece-of-cardboard-off-the-floor-with-your-teeth-while-both-hands-are-behind-your-back game (won by a surprising flexible deck hand, Dan).
















Back on dry land, we spent our final evening in Airlie Beach in the company of our shipmates, before departing for Ayr – the most convenient place to dive the SS Yongala.

Brisbane

Finally, I've cuddled a Koala – yeah! More on this later...

After the party antics of Suffers, it was with some relief that we arrived in Brisbane which at first impression appears to be a civilised, relatively sophisticated, city. We were staying in the New Farm which is a peaceful area with many attractive old wooden Queenslander houses and a smattering of trendy cafes and wine bars. We started with a delicious French inspired lunch at Continental Café – possibly the tastiest food I've had since being in Australia (except of course Glen's cooking in Sydney). This was followed the next day by dinner at Anise, which although on the pricey side, serve up great food with the additional plus of having knowledgeable staff personally recommend excellently matched wines.

Unfortunately the weather was pretty miserable, surprisingly not because of cyclone Hamish which was pottering along the coastline further north and threatening to cause major damage, but thanks to a low pressure area moving in from the south. Despite this, we were determined to get a river trip in, so duly jumped on one of the many river ferries. These very conveniently criss-cross the Brisbane River around which the city is built. This gives a great opportunity to spy on the luxury apartments and houses that are sat on the river banks and get to a feel for the layout of the city.

North of Brisbane lies the much hyped Australia Zoo, out on Steve Irwin Drive (he is Australia's Diana). This is the pet project of the late Crocodile Hunter and his presence is certainly still felt from the statues to the videos of him and his mini-me daughter (Bindi) played on the large screen in the Crocoseum (yes it really is called that). The ultimate homage is of course the plastic dolls in the gift shop. All this said, the zoo does have an excellent reputation for its range of Australian wildlife, which you are able to get up close and personal with, and for promoting conservation.

We started our visit in the Crocoseum for the main show of the day. Whilst the stars, the salt water crocodiles, were pretty impressive, in general the show was far to long on not very funny attempts at comedy. We then moved on to feed the kangaroos. I could do this for hours on end, but Rich got bored quickly as although the enclosure was superior to Featherdale (which we visited near Sydney), the experience was much the same. The rest of the zoo was not that exciting, but perhaps this was because we had to huddle under our umbrella to shelter from the pouring rain.














After lunch, finally the moment I had been waiting for arrived – my chance to cuddle a Koala. After pushing all the kids out of the way I secured my place at the front of the queue. Soon a keeper appeared carrying the lucky ball of fluff. Rich was somewhat disconcerted by the fact it didn't seem to be able to control its bowls, but was nothing was going to put me off. My turn arrived and the sleepy creature was placed in my arms. A few snaps of the camera later, I reluctantly handed the surprisingly soft bundle of fur back to the keeper. A sadly short experience but very sweet.

Sydney to Brisbane

After a relatively non-inspiring drive north from Sydney, mostly to a backdrop of urban sprawl, we arrived at our first resting point, Port Macquarie. We spent the evening battling for kitchen space at our hostel (the absurdly named Ozzie Pozzie Backpackers) before settling in for a much needed quiet night after the excesses of Sydney.














Before heading to the beach the next day we stopped off at the breakwall where visitors have been adorning the rocks for many years with pictures and poems. Although most are pretty shoddy, a ten minute stroll along is quite entertaining. The beach, however, is the main reason to visit Port Macquarie. We found ourselves a lovely cove and spent a very pleasant hour or so soaking up the sun (whilst sensibly lathered in factor 30+) and splashing around in the beautifully warm water.














We continued up the coast to Coffs Harbour, briefly stopping to enjoy the sweeping views of the coastline from the Captain Cook Lookout at Nambucca Heads. We decided that it was high time that we tried to locate our inner surfer dude so we duly signed up for a surf lesson. This turned out to be an excellent deal, as unlike most of the large group lessons available, we lucked out and ended up with a private lesson. My efforts were much more successful than in Bali and by the end of the lesson I was pretty much standing up every time I caught a wave, albeit for not very long. Rich and I even managed to ride the same wave in at one point.














Back on the road again and on to Byron Bay where we had the luxury of staying two nights. Byron is the kind of place were travellers plan to stay for a couple of nights and somehow find themselves still there months later. There were certainly quite a few long timers at our basic but chilled out hostel (Belongil Beachhouse) situated right on the stunning Belongil Beach. Whilst Byron is no-longer the alternative hippy hangout it used to be, it has retained considerable charm. Out of the places we have visited in Australia so far, its the one I where I would have most liked to linger further. We spent most of our short visit on the beach, opting for the less strenuous body boarding over surfing given my aching muscles from the previous day. We also managed to fit in an excellent yoga class at one of the plethora of studios.














We said a sad goodbye to Byron, but thankfully not the coast, as our next port of call was Cabarita Beach a little further north. The beach was gorgeous, but with even more aching muscles thanks to the yoga, and an extremely strong rip current, my efforts at body boarding were somewhat lacklustre. It was, however, a great spot to watch some seriously good surfers attempt to perfect their jumps and spins.















We knew we had entered Queensland, and the Gold Coast, from the sudden sight of high rise towers and the proliferation of fast food joints. Our first view of Surfers Paradise was from Coolangatta – the Blade Runneresque skyline appears to rise out of the sea in ominous glory. My first impression was that the gorgeous sweeping white sand beach and crashing waves were enough to make up for the backdrop of high rise apartments and hotels. Despite it being a Saturday, the beach wasn't too busy. The currents and surf were very strong (possibly something to do with the cyclone which is apparently making its was towards the Whitsundays), but it was excellent fun for body boarding.















However, all my initial good feelings were destroyed after I let Richard persuade me into a night out on the town. We turned down the offer of a “we guarantee you will be the drunkest you've ever been” bar and club crawl organised by our hostel and ventured out alone. After much hunting we finally found a decent enough restaurant (Marmalade Cafe), but from there things went downhill. By 11pm I had seen several girls vomit on the street, a guy being pinned down by two bouncers outside a club, a fight inside a club, and a couple of people fall out of shopping trollies. Rich tried to persuade me that it was an interesting anthropological experience but when the fire alarm starting going off in the club I decided it was time to go. It was with some relief we left for Brisbane.

Sydney

After two weeks on the road coving 3000 miles, it was good to return the car, actually unpack the rucksacks, and settle in for nine nights at hotel (Glen) Ducanson.

Many people like to wax lyrical about the beauty of Sydney, and truly it is a curvy, sexy city. During the month of February, 28 cruise ships docked in Sydney harbour – the smaller ones go to Darling Harbour, while the larger ones, which can't fit under the harbour bridge, dock at Circular Quay. The Queen Mary II, which is too long for Circular Quay, has to go to the navy dock.










First on the agenda was to catch up with Ben and Steve, last seen in China, and freshly back in Sydney after five months in South America. Also in town over the weekend was Narelle, so together with Glen, the five of us popped over to Newtown for some Vietnamese. Glen, Kirsten and I followed this up with some bad Redbull-vodka fuelled brit-pop.














One of Glen's work mates was having a Sunday birthday picnic on Shark Island. Slightly worse for wear, we boarded the ferry at Circular Quay for the ride out to the island in the middle of the harbour, to the east of the city. In the harbour were perhaps 100 small sailing boats, with Sydneysiders having a Sunday splash. Standing on the island in the middle of this enormous natural harbour, you get a real sense of the shape, size and attractiveness of the city. Glen and I ventured into the water, and lacking a ball, threw a nine year old to each other.














We earmarked Monday as a day of rest, and only left the flat to forage for food, which we duly barbecued and ate on the balcony. Need to build in more days of doing nothing.

Back on the tourist trail, we took the ferry around to pretty Watson Bay. On the way in, there appears to be a large collection of eateries, unfortunately this turned out to be one large expensive restaurant, and a massive canteen knocking out $18 salads. However what you do get with your overpriced grub, is a fantastic view along the harbour back to the city. Around the corner is Camp Cove, reputedly one of the best harbour beaches. Being a harbour beach, there's of course no surf, but that makes it good for a gentle swim.

We took the ferry back to Toronga Zoo on the north shore. The zoo is on a hill, so you take a cable car to the top and work your way down. We arrived at 3, but at this time all the shows are over (no petting a Koala today), and by the time we got round to the gorillas and elephants, they'd been put to bed. The animals winning the prize of best view are the giraffes, whose enclosure has great harbour and city views (of course the giraffes themselves get even better views due to their natural advantage). The zoo is actually very well laid out, and needs more than 2 hours to do it justice (as well as arriving before 3).

Steve and Ben have just moved into a new place in fashionable Darlinghusrt. Steve is currently looking for a new job, so was available for lunch around his way. We browsed the Wild Life Photographer of the Year, in the Museum of Australia, then had to say goodbye as we had tickets for Madam Butterfly at the Opera House. I've never been to the opera before, but it lived up to all my expectations of a fat bloke warbling.

















Come Thursday, it was high time we cuddled a Koala. It is illegal to cuddle a Koala in New South Wales, but you can stroke one that's sat in a tree. The place to do this is Featherdale. Steve drove us out there in their brand spanking new Cooper S. True to their word, they dump a Koala on a bit of tree, shove some eucalyptus in its face (they're only awake while eating), and let you go in, stroke it and take photos galore (I assume they rotate the little fellows often).

Also at Featherdale you can hand feed the (unsurprisingly) overweight Kangaroos and stroke a sheep (if you really want to). On the way back into town, we stopped at a designer outlet, and bought new wardrobes – fairly easy when your wardrobe is four t-shirts. Donning our new wardrobe, we met Megan for a catch up drink in the Clock in Surrey Hills (another nice part of Sydney, close to Darlinghurst).
















After the slightly surreally experience of having the Madagascar Honorary Consulate personally issue our visas, I ran around looking for a pub that would be open at 7am and show the rugby. We'd booked in to do the Bridge Climb at 5pm. The first hour is spent kitting up – you're not allowed any loose items (including cameras), and are put in a grey boiler suit, which any essential items (like glasses) are clipped to. While on the bridge, you are permanently attached to a line, but before getting on the bridge, you must walk the “bridge simulator”, which teaches you how to walk up a ladder (in case you've never seen one before).
















Our guide was the bubbly produce of a stage school (“come on team, big smiles” - you get the picture). She lead us up ladders and out onto the eastern arch, where fairly shallow steps ascend to the summit. On route the guide took posed photo, before arranging us for a group photo at the top. You then cross over to the western arch for the decent. This coincided with the beginning of sunset over the Blue Mountains. Now for the rant: the experience costs $179 each ($219 if you go for the dusk slot) for the privilege of being in a group of 13 walking over a bridge. A group leaves every 10 minutes. For safety you cannot take your own camera, but hay the guide's taking those once in a lifetime photos for you. So here's the sting; if you want 4 of those photos on disk, it's $65. So for a couple to do the walk and have photos, they have to hand over $423 (£200) - these guys must be taking over a hundred grand a day. The views on the way up and down are fantastic, so I wouldn't want to diminish the experience, I just find their business model a bit knavish.


Without us really noticing, the weekend had rolled around once more. Glen thought an outing to Whale Beach, in Sydney's far north suburbs, was in order. Firstly I had to get up at 0645 to watch Wales get overpowered by France in a pub in the Casino (the only place open at that time). Ben and Steve came with us, and we did wholesome beach activities, like Frisbee, boogie-boarding , sunburning and being ripped off for lunch. A little way north of Whale Beach is Palm Beach, better known as Summer Bay. I haven't watched Home & Away for 15 years, but apparently Sally Fletcher is all grown up and a bit of an Aussie media babe. There was a wedding going on at the time, and given the bridle car was a London cab, I could help wondering weather the happy couple were way too obsessive British fans.
















For our final day in Sydney, we had lunch in the Rocks – Sydney's first settlement, and now tourist central. The green in front of the Hyatt, with the Opera house across the water, is a favourite wedding photo spot.

Whilst Bondi is far from Syndey's best beach, we felt we couldn't leave Sydney without a visit. The place was crowed, but nothing compared to some European beaches. It's a fun place to people watch, and with the constant filming of Bondi Rescue (LINK) going on, there are high incentives to try a little drowning.
















An old friend of mine, Ian, who I've not seen in almost 20 years (his family move away to Southampton), now lives in Sydney with his family. We met Ian, his wife Carolyn, and three of the four kids for Pizza in Darling Harbour. It was great to catch up – I didn't realise how much noise three kids can make, but then Ian and I were hardly the quietest of kids.
















We've now left Sydney for the long drive up the coast to Cairns. Obviously we had a great time, so many thanks to all our hosts.