The Commune

February 5

If anyone wants to know what happened to the spirit of the 60’s we found we its hiding place – in Bryon Bay in New South Wales.

Bryon Bay is one of those places that was full of surfers and hippies 25 years ago but is now dominated by those rich enough to pretend that they are returning to the simple life while staying in a million-dollar apartment and wearing some kind of strange amulet around their neck.

Right outside of Byron Bay is the Art Factory. It says that it is a hostel but it is really a sixties encampment with a better reception desk and a little bit of beach resort thrown in. Some of the hostel is built in a standard fashion around a pool (very rare at hostels) while others stay in the converted bus, the tepee or the tent encampment.

We tented, with our little tent amongst a lot of bigger tents. This was not a standard campground. We were led out to the site and various empty places in the mess of tents were pointed out as promising. The staff told us that many of the people had been on the site for months. We later found out that the tents (and contents) were often offered for sale by the current occupants to those wishing to stay longer.

The site was shared with a large number of large lizards (very nice but not talkative), bush turkeys and lots of loud birds. The bathrooms were covered with colourful drawings straight from the 60’s. The men’s washroom was designated as the Warriors – with “of love” in small letters.

We spent the evening at the adjoining bar where we met some of the locals. Two that we met were a dive instructor and a tree loper (cutter). They were riding their bikes around town to try to have a drink at every pub in town. I am pretty sure they didn’t make it although I did discover that I could still roll my own cigarettes – and that was before the shots of tequila (long story but it started with the dragon tattoo). All the while gigantic bats (flying foxes) flew overhead looking like black 747s against the sky.

Coff's Harbour

February 4, 2009

Drove up the still unremarkable highway, which seemed to be in a complete state of chaos as they were expanding it or something. Detoured when possible into the “tourist” or scenic routes to catch occasional views of the coast and the odd kangaroo hopping across a farmers field. We did see a pod of dolphins playing off the coast and that was kinda neat.

Splurged that night because it was my Birthday! Hope Brenda mentioned it at Rotary and thanks for those thousands of emails from readers of the blog. (If you didn’t send yours its not too late.)

Spent the night at Coff’s Harbour at the Caribbean Motel. Air conditioning, Jacuzzi tub, a balcony overlooking the ocean and clean towels. Dinner at the Scoffe Seafood Restaurant across the street was great.

The maître d' had a great dry wit and, having spent a career as a mechanical engineer repairing amusement park rides around the world, would have had a lot of interesting stories to tell if I had let him get a word in. I was charming though.

Sydney and then North

February 3, 2009

Picked up our rental car this morning and navigated out of the City, over the famous Harbour bridge and bang – right into a traffic jam in North Sydney – which appears to have as many people and tall buildings as Sydney dees.

Despite the traffic, I am glad to be gone. The CB Private Hotel or the Maze Backpackers Hostel – whichever you want to call it – was a dump and I was glad to see the last of it. Guessing what the new stain was in the hallway each morning wasn’t as much fun by day three. Counting how many people might be sleeping on the floor in the games room was a challenge every day as was finding your food in the crammed fridges. If you go there anyway have a good time, many of the guests apparently do, but just keep your sandals on in the shower.

Headed north we took the totally unremarkable main highway. The only thing memorable thing about it was the occasional sign warning about koalas or kangaroos on the road.

That night, however, we did something that I never expected us to do. Sometimes you have to push some boundaries and that isn’t always something that everyone is comfortable with. Lana was more willing then I was. I can’t even blame what we did on alcohol. Nevertheless, we did it – and I have the pictures to prove it.

We stayed at a Caravan Park. (That’s a trailer park for you slow folks out there.)

Yup we did it. Pitched our little tent up among all those large trailers, big pickups and mammoth circus tents that some people sleep in. Our tent, by comparison, was completely hidden behind our little rent a car (nicknamed the chipmunk for its incredible Kia engine). I could see the pity in the eyes of those around us but we put on a brave face and tried to stand proud. In the background you could hear small children try to ask their parents about those poor people but parents would just shush them up and say that not everyone was as fortunate as they were (to have the 28 ft deluxe model).

In the morning, it was nice to see that some people had tossed coins at the foot of the tent. People will never cease to amaze me with their kindness.

Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

February 1.2, 2009

After the relative calm of New Zealand, the noise and activity of Sydney are a bit of a shock. First impressions of the City is that it has grown along the American model with tall generic office buildings and lots of chain stores. It also seems a lot dirtier than we remembered it. As we walked around the first morning there I was astonished to see private security guards, carrying handguns, patrolling the main business and shopping streets.

Everywhere downtown there were signs saying that the area was under video surveillance. If being under surveillance makes a place safer then Sydney should be right up there at the top of the list.

Over the course of a couple of days we walked all along the waterfront, saw the bridge and opera house, the Botanical Garden (which is huge), the entire Australian navy (tied up in port), through Kings Cross (now a very upscale area instead of the interesting place it used to be), around Paddington and into Chinatown. We walked a lot.

The village areas, like Paddington, were great and as we remembered them. I tried to find a pub that I remembered spending a great deal of time in a long time ago but it was probably condemned 20 years ago. Either that or they went broke after I left.

One day we went to Manly on the ferry and walked the park track up on the big natural reserve on the harbour’s North Head. Great park and walk until I reminded Lana to keep an eye out for snakes. After that, she made me go first. Something about insurance. Oh and thanks to Norm at the Visitor’s Centre for talking about the fight to get the land declared a park after the Federal Government declared it surplus and was about to sell it. (Gee that sounds familiar).

Found a nice pub (called Scruffy Murphy’s) on Gouldburn Street near George St that night. Great meal deals like steak and mashed potatoes for $5.95 (if you buy a beer to go with it). Open 24/7 they have lots of drunken Irishman in the place all the time and a good breakfast special for $5.95 but only if you buy the beer to go with it. Good for that quick pick me up before work.

One night we watched a big parade to celebrate the start of the Chinese New Year from their outside tables. The floats were all lit from the inside and many of the dancers and performers were wearing lights as well. Pretty cool.

Another night we went to an amazing BYOB Italian restaurant called Bar Reggio over about 10 blocks on Crown St. Outstanding food but the watching the staff and the customers was even better. If you get to Sydney, you have to try it. Really.

Fashions in Sydney are certainly more variable than either Toronto or Vancouver. We saw more types of summer dresses/frocks or whatever you want to call them in an hour thae you might in a week in Canada. I, of course, was watching only in my capacity as a unpaid amateur travel blogger. There are some downsides to the job after all.

Christchurch to Sydney

January 31, 2009

Washed everything and packed it up for the flight to Australia. Spent the morning at a small but phenomenal organic market in Lyttleton, which the deepwater port for Christchurch. They carved a long tunnel under the hills to get there so everyone could avoid the steep ascent and descent over the hill separating the two. We did both just to cover all the bases. Toured around a bit with Bruce and Carolynn and the Beast – as we have fondly named the 4x4 they had loaned us for our travels.

Finally said good-bye at the larger then expected Christchurch airport and flew four hours to Sydney. Went with Air New Zealand and was really impressed (again) by everything – the plane and the crew were amazing and the drinks were still free. They make Westjet look shoddy (which is hard to do) and there is absolutely no comparison to the crap that Air Canada offers.

Surprised at how lax security was at the airport through. Lana had a big stainless steel water jug (empty of course) on the outside of her carry on but no one even glanced at it.

Landed in Australia and took a shuttle to the Maze backpackers hostel (previously know as the CB private hotel) right in the heart of Sydney. We had stayed there before (23 years ago) and I was of the opinion that time could only have improved the place.

It is amazing to me (but not I assume to the readers) how wrong I can be on occasion. The CB Private Hotel was one of those times.

Driving in New Zealand

Driving in NZ


I have mentioned a number of driving related matters in the blog but I thought that I should mention some more before we moved onto Australia.

First driving in NZ is based on the premise that you actually trust the other drivers on the road. For example, in the rural areas most of the bridges that you would cross are single lane ones and you have to trust that the guy, coming the other way, will read the yield sign and follow it. Just like he has to trust you. It is embarrassing to meet someone in the middle of a 100-metre bridge who has right on their side.

North American driving is the based on the premise that you can’t trust the other drivers. We are overrun with traffic lights, stop signs and other directional indicators that take away the whole concept of self-determination on the road. Mostly because we can’t be trusted to do it on our own. The “rules of the road” that we are all supposed to know have degenerated into “survival of the most maniacal”.

In NZ, there are very few traffic lights (only in major towns/cities) and almost no stop signs. You could spend a whole vacation in the rural areas and not see more than one or two.

There is however, lots of things called roundabouts (the one in Vernon is not really a functional one) which operate solely on the principle that what is to the left of you is not important. That concept escaped me on the first few hundred roundabouts that I drove into. I was watching the cars to the right of me, the cars coming in on the left and frantically subduing my urge to just panic and stop somewhere in the middle. Since there were no stop signs that meant (to me anyway) there was roughly the same amount of control as one might get jumping out of a plane or falling into a whirlpool.

I eventually gave up and plunged into the “chaos” of traffic while only looking to the right and fully expecting that I would be blindsided by one of those maniacs on the left. (Nothing like clenching your teeth and expecting to meet your maker at every intersection.) The weirdest thing happened. The system worked

Since NZ has hundreds of traffic cameras and a very determined stance on speeding almost no one does it. That is except the motorcyclists. Apparently, the traffic cameras can’t read their tiny plates and the helmets cover their faces so they, as a group, seem to do anything that comes into their heads. Watch out for them.

As far as drinking and driving goes they do random spot checks with ALL drivers having to speak into the “machine”. If it glows green then on your way but if red then into the nearby van for some more conclusive testing.

One other assumption is that drivers are paying attention all the time. This means that when they change the speed limit that only post it once. After that you may have to wait a long time to see a reminder. They also assume you know what the main roads are when you reach them presumably in the belief that you saw the sign when you turned on it. The concept of putting up both road names at intersections hasn’t really taken hold here (although it does prompt some interesting conversations with your in car GPS unit or spouse).

One more thing. Don’t laugh at their police cars. They get sensitive about that and they are quite colourful after all.

Christchurch

January 30, 2009

On our second last day in NZ we didn’t do much. Spent some time in used book stores (you read a lot when you travel) and then we thought we would take our friends to a very nice restaurant.

This brings me to a topic that I have been meaning to mention. Screens. Actually it is the lack of screens. Since most of NZ doesn’t have any bugs to speak of they don’t have screens in any of their windows. Now this might sound like a good thing but you need to know that there are dangers associated with this.

If, for example, someone (no names of course) decided that it might be a better thing if the toilet window was open and if (just if) someone’s cat jumped in the window and set off a house alarm while everyone was at dinner in a really nice restaurant then the obvious conclusion would be that the particular someone would be blameless. I mean I don’t know how anyone could come to any other conclusion.

So anyway if you are ever in a really fancy restaurant in downtown Christchurch called Tiffany’s, with a waiter who doesn’t know what a mojito is, just remember that being thoughtful about ventilation can be cancelled out by the odd cat.

Enough said. Don’t you think?

Christchurch South Island New Zealand

January 28.29, 2009

Spent some lazy time sponging off of Bruce and Carolynn. They rent a house fronting on a waterfowl sanctuary and the views out of their kitchen are great. Went into downtown Christchurch and screwed around for a bit. On the 29^th all four of us went up to the hot springs at Hanmer Springs and spent some time in the sulphur pools. Took years and years off our bodies. We left there teenagers (for the most part). Lana, in particular, looked no older than 14 when we left. Probably will be had to explain when we get back to Canada but we can only hope that the effects are temporary.

Oamaru to Lake Tekapo

January 26.27, 2009

Decided at the last minute to detour into the interior again to see Mt. Cook from the eastern side. We saw it at a distance as we went down the West Coast but thought a closer view would be in order. Turned away from the coast and ascended up into the high alpine as we got near the southern alps.

For a few hours we could have sworn we were back in BC with the high hills covered in short brown grass and the snow covered ranges rising in the background.

Entered into Mt. Cook national park with the ranges looming overhead. Great views of the front of the glaciers in the mountains. Walked most of the way into Hooker Valley to get a better view of Mt Cook (largest mountain in the Southern Alps). Went over the suspension bridges across the glacier fed river. The water had that peculiar colour that comes only from melting glaciers.

Ended up at Lake Tekapo which has the darkest nights in NZ. So much so that there are a number of observatories at the top of the hills.

Drove the next day through a rain storm to Christchurch where we were due to return the “Beast” (our faithful Land Cruiser) to our friends Bruce and Carolynn. The rain was welcomed by the locals as it had been a very dry summer. Kinda of funny however to look through the pouring rain and see all the fire danger signs warning about the “extreme” danger.

Stopped to change the oil and wash the beast before we returned it. It seemed the least we could do for them loaning it to us for the last three weeks.

Dunedin to Oamaru

January 25, 2009

Quick look at the picture (remember to double click to enlarge it) and see if you can find the penguins in it. There is a prize involved and there is a bonus if you can tell me what species they are. No luck huh. Too bad.

Left Dunedin by way of a trip up to the summit of Mt. Cargill which is the big hill overlooking the city. Other than being crowded by a plethora (nice word huh) of antenna and telecommunication that masks the view of the harbour and the area was fabulous. Headed up the coast road (the scenic route of course) to Oamaru. Stopped for a really nice burger at the Seaview café (which was in the middle of nowhere) except that Lana didn’t really like the three or four generous pieces of beetroot on the burger. Hoped for some views of dolphins but had to settle for the famous boulders of Moeraki.

As far as I was concerned, they looked exactly like large dinosaur eggs that had been laid on the beach and of which some of them had hatched. Look at the picture.

Oamaru itself is a town that time passed by. They had some of the best Victorian/Empire type buildings from the day when they were an important shipping port but since then things haven’t been going quite as well. On the other hand they were the site of the last whiskey distillery in NZ and all of the last stocks are stored at a beautiful old limestone building called Whiskey. If you go there try the 20 year old cask unfiltered stuff. Knocks your socks off.

Oamaru is also the site of a blue penguin colony although you have to pay to watch from a grandstand as them come in from the sea at sunset. We decided instead to go to a beach nearby and waited for a few hours (in perfect weather mind you) to wait for the yellow eyed penguins to come ashore. They eventually did and the way they just pop out of the waves is nothing sort of magic. The beach is empty and then it isn’t.

They spend all day out catching fish and then come home to a bunch of people on the cliffs watching them. Made me think that we were in a suburban neighbourhood watching a bunch of autoworkers come home, chat with the neighbours and then preen their feathers before they gathered up enough courage to face the family. In this case they eventually made their way to their burrows up in the scrub behind the beach.

Had a drink at the local pub with one of the locals who had spent a career in the bush cutting timber but who now whips off oil paintings (which are pretty good) when the mood strikes him. He was an interesting guy, who was missing a few teeth, and who thought that Canadians were the same as Americans. When I asked him if that meant Ozzies (Australians) were the same as Kiwis he got very offended at first and then apologized to all Canadians.

When we left the next morning we checked under the car for penguins as they sometimes get lost and end up around town. Always better safe then sorryl

Dunedin and the Otago Peninsula

January 23.24, 2009

With the City Centre nicely confined, and the farmlands visible around the water, Otago Harbour has to be one of the most beautiful in the world. Big ships can only get part of the way in (through an incredibly narrow headlands) and maybe that is the reason it has kept its charm.

After driving the water level lower road to the end of the Otago peninsula in the hopes of seeing a Royal Albatross we took the high road back. Now there is a Royal Albatross colony at the end of the peninsula but the price of $39/person was a little out of our range. (What a shame for a country with so many free museums to hold the birds up for ransom like that).

Anyway, we did get close to a fur seal on the rocks and I did catch a couple of glimpses of the big birds as they soared over cliffs. Out around the “narrows” leading into the harbour was the strangest fog bank I have ever seen. It was thick enough to seriously delay one of the cruse ships from coming in on time but it was limited just to a specific area. It also stayed there for the whole day. Bizarre.

Stopped at NZ’s only “castle”. Really just a big mansion but it and the gardens had been restored. It wasn’t worth the $25/person for the castle tour but the $10/person just to wander around the grounds was a good price. For those of you who have been to Casa Loma in Toronto it has a history sort of like that except that this guy had three wives and …. never mind.

The real fun part was taking a number of the single (and I mean single lane) gravel roads that cover the other side of the peninsula. The views of beaches, salt flats and bays are really tremendous and well worth the extra driving. The roads are frequently steep and we did have one close call with another car on a blind curve (must have been his fault because he didn’t curse at me) but the areas are windswept and seem very remote for all their proximity to the town.

The next day was strictly walking as we went down the long hill to the historic railway station. Since it is, reputedly, the most photographed building in NZ we didn’t take a picture of it but enjoyed it nonetheless. Had breakfast at the Farmer’s Market there (I recommend the Bacon Buttie) from a stall and then went on a walking tour of the downtown and shopping areas. Visited the museum (once again a very good one and free to boot) and tried to avoid all the American tourists in town from the cruise ship.

Had an overpriced beer at a side walk café in the Octagon, which is the circle like plaza/park that is the heart of the city. Since the temperature was a little cooler than yesterdays 27C (80F) the hill back up wasn’t as bad. Had a nice talk with one of the hostel owners about her four month old baby (she was from Chicago) who wasn’t wearing a diaper. Some kind of theory about reading the baby’s feelings and knowing when it was going to “go”. Sounded dangerous to us but then again there weren’t any accidents as we were sitting there.

On the road again tomorrow.

Bluff to Dunedin

January 22, 2009

Ok the first thing is that I didn’t get sick on the ferry on the way back. It was a calm day, I had eaten the ginger extract tablets that they sold on the dock and I also took advantage of the free earplug they give you if asked. Apparently one earplug lessens motion sickness. I didn’t care as long as it would help prevent me from reliving the fish and chips from last night.

The clouds were racing high overhead (actually they are always racing here) but the seas were pretty calm for this section of the world. We would miss Stewart Island but I wouldn’t miss the ride.

Next, we headed up the east coast of the south island heading through green fields full of sheep. We out ran the rain in Bluff and the weather got noticeably warmer as we drove. Slammed on the brakes at one point and did a U-turn as we passed a sign proclaiming that Niagara Falls was to the right. They were right. Here is a picture.

Up the coast farther through twisting roads and, since we followed the scenic route signs, about 30 km of one and half lanes of loose gravel roadway. I use the term lanes loosely as it means that two cars should be able to pass. Should be anyway.

Saw some great coastal scenery and buzzed through a lot of small (really small) towns that were anything but tourist traps. Finally rolled into Dunedin (Scottish Gaelic name for Edinburgh) in the late afternoon. The City was once the financial capital of NZ, and the centre of a gold rush area, so there are some amazing colonial stone structures about all looking like the very essence of the British Empire.

Found, to my horror, that much of the City is built on steep streets and that my skills with the stick, brake and clutch were to be tested once again. (I thought this was supposed to be relaxing.) Having arrived here by bus the last time I had forgotten that.

We did walk down to the City centre to buy groceries and then back up a really large hill. Nice hostel through, as long as you don’t have to leave. Of course we could have taken the car but then we wouldn’t be getting “in shape”.

Stewart Island

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January 21, 2009

Our second day on Stewart Island started out clear and calm. Our first stop was at a local bakery (and health spa) run by an expatriate American by the name of Britt. She came to Stewart Island 10 years ago to do her PhD thesis in geology and never left. Now she works 10 hours/day (every day) for six months and travels for the rest of the time. She makes really good scones and soups in her tiny one person bake shop. My advice would be to have the cranberry scone but ask her to skip the pound of butter on top. She also offers cheap wireless access and is very nice.

Today’s trip is to Ulva Island, which is a protected reserve inside of Paterson Inlet. Before people showed up in New Zealand, it was populated almost completely by birds. They filled all the niches normally filled by mammals elsewhere. (The only native mammals in New Zealand were the bats). They are still worried about rats coming back. See the sign.

Ulva Island is only about 250 hectares (roughly 500 acres) in size with a really nice series of paths from one end to the other. The interior is very jungle like and it echoes with lots of birdcalls. We did see some of the species on the island. One, a weka, kept trying to get into our packs at one of the beach stops. Another, a NZ parakeet, wasn’t to be seen on the walkways but turned out to have a nest right over the hut on the wharf.

The only way to get there is by a water taxi ride. This being the “roaring 40’s” the water taxis are all capable of riding out three metre (10 ft) waves. (That is in the protected waters of the inlet – you don’t want to even think about the ocean side). While we were waiting for the taxi to take us to the island we watched some of the park staff and a couple of locals take a stretcher out of a boat with an older woman on it. Turns out that she broke a leg “up a creek” as one of them put it.

After four hours on the island we walked, in the rain (because it rains almost every day), back up and over the hill (because there are always hills on the island) to the pub. After the pub, we had some fish and chips with the local specialty blue cod at the (only) fish and chips stand.

That night it rained – all night. What a surprise! If you are thinking of going to Stewart Island you should, as it really is a magic place. Just be prepared for 17C maximum (62F) and take lots of quick dry clothes. Oh and the ferry is $60/person each way but that does include as many of the little paper (vomit) bags as you can use.

Stewart Island - South of Everything

January 20, 2009

Stewart Island is the “other” island of NZ. In Maori legend the North Island was a big fish caught by a hero and the South Island was the canoe that he was in. Stewart Island was the anchor that they threw out to stop the canoe. The island has a year round population of 360 people with another couple of hundred visiting as tourists during the better weather.

The good news is that there is never snow on the island. The bad news is that it is located in the “roaring 40s”. That means that it is almost always windy and rain can come at any time.

Most of the island is a national park and this is a place where the kiwi still thrives. Some of the off shore islands around it are predator free and for many of the native birds this is their last refuge. The deluge of rats, pigs, dogs, cats, mongooses and more have devastated them on the two big islands.

To get to Stewart you generally take a ferry. Now I am not a good sailor especially when you don’t have anything to do but look at the waves. This ferry held about 100 people and was designed for this route. It was also a catamaran and that means it floats like a cork on the top of the waves.

Today wasn’t a bad day for this trip with about two to three metre waves and a 30 kilometre wind. Personally I hated it. The ship went up and down with the waves frequently well above the window level. I spent half the trip clutching the rail on the back deck and getting soaked by the rain just because it made me feel better.

Finally got to the tiny settlement of Oban on Halfmoon Bay after an hour that felt twice as long. It is the only settlement on the island with a couple of pubs and a small store. Walked a few of the local roads and trails before bunking into the hostel. Heard some stories of the ferry where it literally left the water in rough weather. Not looking forward to the trip back.

Queenstown to Bluff

January 19, 2009

Took the scenic route from Queenstown cutting across the western part of the Southland to Te Annue (the gateway to the fiords). At first the road was your typical winding narrow one hanging on the edge of a mountain overlooking big lakes. It then turned into a gentle wide one that presented us with views of big paddocks (fields for those of you who are unworldly) filled with thousands of sheep. Apparently we were in an area where the cattle hadn’t yet eaten all the sheep although there were fields were the two coexisted, for the moment.

Some of the paddocks had higher fences and contained herds of red deer and one of them had a herd of elk.

After a few hours of driving we reconnected with coast close to Invercargill. The weather went from sunny to cold and wet with increasing winds. This is the southwest corner of NZ and the weather patterns that hit here come directly from the Antarctic.

Had lunch in Invercargill but decided not to stay the night but rather to head to the port town of Bluff where we would catch the ferry to Stuart Island. We did walk around a tremendous central park in town that was laid out in a very formal manner with a central band shell, rose gardens, museum, wildlife park and, of course, the croquet club. It must have covered 30 acres at least and was in immaculate condition.

Pulled into Bluff after some really high winds off the water. Our faithful land cruiser has a high profile and, on some of the curves, felt like it wanted to fly.

The town of Bluff used to be a thriving one, shipping southland products and fish, but a big plant closure in 1991 destroyed the local economy. There were more empty storefronts then occupied ones on the main street and the gloomy weather didn’t help the impression. Stayed in the hostel located in the old grand Post Office in a private room with ten foot ceilings. Bluff is the end of all the roads in NZ. Look at the sign.

The last time we were in NZ (separately of course) parts of the South Island had been wet and cold. The lack of central heating in NZ didn’t help. With the wind blowing through the crack in the window our memories came rushing back. By the way don’t drink the water in Bluff as it has to have more chlorine in it then any place I can remember.