Mar 2009

This morning, while talking with our children thanks to the great inventions of both Skype and the magic jack, it was our son Tony who asked if we were homesick. No, we are not homesick however we so miss our children’s presence, as well as the laughter and good times with friends. Tony also reminded us that we are not only half way done time wise, but also half way in our pursuit to travel the earth fully in its roundness. We are indeed now exactly 12 hours ahead of our home town Conway and traveling closer back home with each flight we take.
No where yet on our travels have extremes been so manifested as here in Thailand. These past days were spent on Phuket island, on beaches named Patong, Karon and Kata, names which 4 years ago were mentioned worldwide during the 2004 tsunami devastation and frankly we had forgotten as the people here want to do . Diamond Cottage resort and Spa, nestled in the hillside of Kata Bay among lush tropical greenery with beaches minutes away, is the place where at night we hang our wet beach towels and cool off in an air-conditioned room where directly outside fountains flow in the pool we step out in when opening the sliding door to our private patio. Somehow we were upgraded to the honey moon suite and I am convinced Tom was the reason. Wherever we ventured in Bangkonk and now on Phuket Island, Tom is greeted and revered like Buddha’s first cousin. At first I thought it was his big Australian hat since “cowboy” is murmured in passing but it ends up that this favoritism is caused by his bushy moustache, the same one which has been covering Tom’s upper lip since he was 17 and according to Tom is to hide a scar. I have never, not in the 27 years I have known him, seen Tom’s upper lip to learn the truth of this reason but here in Thailand this thick, white moustache is creating quite a stir. The island is not near as quiet as we hoped it to be, it is a haven for tourists from Northern and Eastern Europe as well as tourists from China and Japan. In the resort’s “library” where books and magazines are left at random for other travelers to now enjoy I could not find any reading material to take along. Nothing there in English, Dutch nor German but plenty of American authors translated in the various Scandinavian and Asian languages as well as Russian. It appears that few English or American tourists visit Phuket Island while ironically it is English that is used by staff and guides as the language to communicate in and for that we are very grateful. Soft, English music is crooned nonstop in restaurants and stores, often songs we have not heard in decades and enjoy hearing once again. Elvis popularity never died here and signs are out advertising a performing a Thai Elvis impersonator with banners acclaiming “ Elvis is alive”. Words learned in the English language by hotel staff, shop owners and taxi drivers are enough to serve the purpose intended but sadly not enough for conversation and we have of course so many inquiries about culture and history. We learned a couple of basic words, like thank you and good evening. Personally I always enjoyed and appreciated when those who visited my native Holland took the time to learn a few Dutch words and in the eyes of the Thai people we see the same appreciation for our small effort.
The long, white, sandy beaches are very crowded and lined with thousand of reclining chairs with much needed parasols (sun-umbrella’s). For the cost of 100 baht (about 3 US dollars) one can sit on these all day and watch tall, very blond people turn beet red. In Florida we get “winter birds” in Thailand a fitting name could be “red birds”. Europeans are easily identified by their swim suits (Speedo’s for men) or lack of them (topless women) and the breast stroke must still be the first swim stroke taught there since seldom we saw any one swimming the crawl. It was amusing but refreshing to spend a day next to a Swedish family on the beach. Father, mother and two daughters, one well up in her teenage years who laid sprawled, topless in the sun and mom, very worried about her daughter’s exposed feet covered those with a towel. The Andaman Sea is incredibly clear and the color changes from turquoise to aqua depending on the influence from the surrounding green jungle or the sky’s blue. The Sea is so tranquil that even the moving tide barely leaves a ripple and stretched on the water naps can be taken and I believe I did while floating on this mirror in the absence of waves. Incredible to imagine that this is the same body of water which snatched so many during the Christmas tsunami now 4 years ago. Phuket Island has rebuilt and working on revival. Safaris and elephant treks are back in place, restaurants and bars in the swing of things once again, Starbucks has reopened and the harbors are buzzing with departing cruise ships. Here one sees not construction but re-construction. The same can be said of the small island of Phi Phi Don where we snorkeled yesterday and our guide mentioned that on the same beach where we landed everything disappeared during the tsunami, including 4 thousand people. Tourism is the lively hood for the majority of the Phuket people and they are gratified for the return of the tourists. We struggled with the enormity of the loss experienced here late in 2004 and now our presence but do know that for the people here life must go on. One of our tour guides in Thailand, upon hearing our home state asked if we had tornadoes there. When we affirmed his eyes grew huge and shuddering he kept on saying “twister, twister. Oh no!. The movie must have made a big impact here. While in Windsor, Australia we talked with one of the locals there and she said the same “How can you intentionally live in a place that produces tornadoes”? We reminded her that she willingly lives in a place prone to flooding and bush fires. We all live in places where the elements of earth, wind, water and fire can and do produce great tragedies while learning that when we live in fear, we stop living.
During two of our days here we took a boat out on the Andaman Sea. The first one was out to Phang Nga Bay where in less than one generation this remote corner of Thailand has been transformed into a favorite water sport and boating destination for the tourists. Not too many years ago it was only the long tail boats carrying the fishermen one could find under the shadows of the gargantuan rocky monoliths which make up the island landscape. Now throughout the bay, tourist laden boats and sea canoes can be found mixed with the fishermen still hunting for prawns, fish, crabs, squid and jelly fish. We somehow left on the canoeing cruise with a notion that we ourselves would be the ones paddling the canoes. Not so, at the first drop off, the canoes/kayaks were thrown in the water from our boat and there were all our guides, sitting in the back, smiling and waiting. Alex, the main guide, obviously chosen for his best command of the English language kept on shaking his head when we asked to man our own boat. Obviously that was out. Venturing inside the caves of some of these rock formations, literally lying flat on our backs while barely above our faces the stalactites were hanging while in the dark traffic jams were forming were probably better navigated by our young Thai friend. I could have done without the flashlight he brought along which showed bats inches away and I was too stunned to even scream, I only clenched my eyes and mouth tight and hoped for the bats to have a very good grip. We stopped by many islands until we reached our main destination, James Bond Island, which our boat could not reach, based on the shallowness of the water surrounding the island and we all were transported by long boat to what I can only describe as a shopping nightmare. It is known that tourists come with money and the whole idea is for ALL the money to stay in Thailand. I abhor shopping and had successfully managed to not make any eye contact with the constant flow of vendors selling wares on the beaches. We had even learned not to stop while strolling the streets of Phuket and never to glance at the items displayed. I was not prepared for the James Bond Island approach. I blame it all on my good manners which made me automatically respond to a hand reached out which I presumed was in greeting. Immediately, this tiny Thai woman , pulled my solid six foot frame into her stall while repeating “ You buy, you buy”. I wrestled myself loose with a no buy, no buy and thought I had been successful and almost reached Tom who was watching it all in wonder when her helper grabbed my other arm and back I went while they were filling a bag with Thai souvenirs. The only escape to freedom came through succumbing and children of ours, you will understand and hear more of the story when Christmas stockings are opened next year. On the way back to the boat I walked with my head down and hands very close to my side. We spent another day snorkeling the clear water around various islands in the bay and enjoyed being surrounded by the many tropical fish tremendously. Intriguing were the many sea cucumbers on the ocean floor which we had never seen so close before. On the islands monkeys were their cheeky selves and one happily ran over and grabbed a can of Pringles from two unsuspecting young beach goers. Here in Thailand plumeria grows in abundance as well as many other flowers and thick jungle growth. Almost daily on Phuket island rain is felt but does not lower the hot, tropical temperatures. Today, our last day we chose not to even venture out to the beach but stayed more in the shade and visited the temple built high up near the Big Buddha of Phuket in honor of Thailand ‘s King Adulyadej 80th birthday. Throughout our visit in this Buddhist Kingdom, the love and respect the people of Thailand have for their King is evident was well as the deep spirituality and reverence to Buddha. Cars, taxis and boats all carry flower leis for Buddha’s blessing in safe keeping. Taxi drivers create temples inside their vehicles through marked, light colored splotches ion the roofs. Not so much different from the St. Christopher’s medals Christians display for safe travel.
Most of the Thai people travel on mopeds and they travel fast while weaving in and out of traffic. If helmets are worn often it is only by the driver while whole families can be found on one moped with children before and behind the driver and on mother’s lap in the back, all without helmets. That was bothersome to see, as was the Russian mother who sat up front with her two year old child on her lap while we were all transported quite fast by van over the island’s main road to the harbor where the boat departed from. None of us were wearing seatbelts, there were none in the van but when our driver was pulled over by a sharp whistling policeman that was not the issue, neither was the speed he had been driving with or illegal passing. It is pure speculation on our part why he received a ticket/warning but it may have been in not responding immediately to the uniformed police. When trying to learn more our driver only smiled. Sam, our Bangkok guide asked us if we knew why Thailand is called the land of the smiling people and we did not. His words “When we do not understand what you are saying… we smile”. The people we have met here have been gracious, welcoming, incredibly efficient and serve with a friendly smile, sometimes more than we want to be served since yes, Alex, we do want to paddle our own canoe.

Tonight, after dinner we walked one more time inside this great room we have stayed in for the past week, it offers a beautiful view out back with riches and elegance but out front, right outside our door is the other Thailand where many live in poverty. We are glad to have seen both. Early tomorrow morning we depart back for Bangkok and go on to Kathmandu, Nepal where tomorrow afternoon we hope to glimpse a view of the Himalayas. It is time to trade our beach flippers in for our hiking boots and go trekking, once again.

Thank you Thailand,.
Tom and Els

Flying the nine hours from Sydney to Bangkok were spent reading and watching, finally, the movie Australia. The book I read was traded up for at our hostel in Sydney the day before we left and it is the first time I am reading in Dutch, a translated book by John Irving, an author whose books I normally read in English and treasure when I do . Reading “ A prayer for Owen Meany” in the Dutch translated version, which by the way is extremely well done and kept to Irving’s style, while flying over countries and cities where as Americans we could not fly over without destruction, pain and loss when this book was written is something that will stay with me.
We flew with Thai Air which is overtaking New Zealand Air as the favorite and Bangkok is an airport which has arrivals, customs, declarations down to such an art that we landed and were headed in a taxi, for our down town hotel within 30 minutes. That was even after booking an excursion trip which resulted after looking way too lost while finding a taxi. Our hotel had been booked earlier through Club hotel and basically based on what we saw as a daily expendature so we were absolutely stunned to see what the same amount of money allotted in NZ and Australia suddenly brought us. The room is probably 10 times the size of our room in Sydney, it has hard wood floors, a large, flat screen Sony TV, sound system and the biggest bathtub ever which I have been floating in. The service is impeccable and it appears that every table in the hotels restaurant has at least three waiters anxiously hoping for an opportunity to serve and plates are whisked away the second the fork is laid to rest. Doors are opened and the greeting, bowed with hands folded together is so reverent, graceful and respectful and somehow when I return the greeting I feel and must look as a klutz. For the first time in my life I know what it is like to be absolutely lost in a world whose language I am not even close to understanding. Few speak English here and on a shopping expedition for a converter the shop owner brought in a young boy who is learning English at school and was able to assist us. The currency used here is called Baht and one US dollar buys around 35 baht at the moment. Our first purchase was buying a guided tour in Bangkok and cost 500Baht , around 14dollars and it was amazing that in exchange we were picked up at our hotel by private car and while one man chauffeured us through Bangkok the English speaking tour guide, named Sam, explained the many sights and escorted us through three temples and of course part of the tour involved dropping us by stores selling gems and handmade silk suits, neither which we are planning on toting along in our backpacks. Guide Sam informed us that he self-taught his English language skills and that it is his dream to one day go to America and see New York City, its freedom statue (Lady Liberty) and the Grand Canyon. Bangkok, like many other Asian capitals is a large, chaotic, and bustling city with sharp, mind-blowing contrast. Shanty dwellings versus modern high rise buildings. Saffron-robed Buddhist monks walking the street in early morning versus blaring music from pubs and bars the night before. Glittering Buddhist temples coexist next to worn commercial buildings, shopping centers, hotels and restaurants. Very noisy and crowded streets full of buses, mopeds, bright colorful taxis, tuk-tuks and chauffeur driven Mercedes, Rolls Royces and BMWs. The mass of people trying to ply the streets of Bangkok is captivating and one could spend hours observing this phenomena. Thais drive on the left side and that’s about it. Other than that anything goes. Right-of way is apparently determined by the size of vehicles and the white dash lines are for the mopeds to slither on. Driving against the flow of traffic is normal as demonstrated by our driver who had no patience with slow moving traffic. Walking takes a special skill since crossing can be quite hazardous and mopeds will hop on the sidewalks when the street traffic slows them down. One can actually take a ride on the back of these mopeds, many serve as taxis. Neither Tom nor I were that brave. Thailand appears to have three seasons: hot, hotter and hottest. March is the hotter stage and spending the noon hours walking the temples became gruesome and we started looking for shade at every chance. Sam , our guide, was a world of information and he shared it with great enthusiasm. He explained why on almost every street corner a small Buddha temple can be found. If you built a temple you are guaranteed a place in heaven. Ninety five percent of Thais are Buddhist with the rest consisting of Muslims, Hindus and Christians. Sam took us to three temples. What Pho was the largest and is also the oldest temple in Bangkok and is home to more than one thousand Buddha images, more than any other temple in the country. It also houses the largest Buddha image, the reclining Buddha which is 46 meters long and fifteen meters high and fully decorated in gold plating with mother of pearl on its eyes and the soles of its feet. At the temple of Wat Trimit we observed three Buddhist monks removing the bad luck from a woman while her family prayed around. It was very moving and throughout the visits at the temples one could sense the holiness and sincerity of those who came in prayer and left their offering for Buddha and the monks at the altar.
Shoes are removed at the doors and shorts and sleeveless shirts are not allowed so I draped a shawl over my arms and wore the skirt I brought especially for temple and church visits. Learning the culture and manners of the countries we travel in is fascinating. What is considered good manners in one culture may be considered rude in another. In Thailand doorway thresholds are considered a sanctuary for spirits, it’s important not to step on a raised threshold but rather to step over it. Especially in the temples the thresholds were quite high but in our hotel room the threshold for the bathroom was equally high enough to stumble over in the dark.
Thanks to Sam we are flying out of Bangkok to the small island of Phuket in South Thailand where it will be quite calmer than Bangkok with its 10 million inhabitants and treating ourselves to the beaches and snorkeling there. During the economic boom of the mid 80’s to mid 90’s hotels have been overbuilt in Thailand . As a result prices are very reasonable compared to most countries given the high accommodations and services offered. Most hotels include a breakfast buffet and it is amazing what is served for breakfast in Thailand. With my love for exotic food I find myself in heaven. This morning I started the day with Sparerib soup with bamboo and fungus, yes that is how the mushrooms floating in it were called. Maybe not every one’s idea of breakfast food but it hit the spot for me.
Time to wait in the lobby for the driver who is taking us to the airport for the unexpected to Phuket.

LA-KON, Tom and Els

We are back in Sydney once again, this time not in busy, never resting downtown, but instead about 45 minutes further north in a YHA hostel, smack on Collaroy Beach and not too far from famous Manley Beach. Early this morning we took our Wicked van back to where it belongs and after 7 weeks of taking us there where we wanted to go and be, we are missing both the freedom and confines our old graffiti vans gave us. The drive on the Hume Highway from Melbourne to Sydney was great while hot and dry and I do owe an apology to my Kansas friend Jeannie who taught me of the beauty that can be found while driving through great stretches of near empty landscape. The 900 kilometers we drove showed us the truth in Australia being the least forested continent after Antarctica. We camped outside of Holbrook, a very small town known as the submarine city. This had us wondering since there is no water around for many, many miles. Smack downtown, lying in a field there is a huge, old submarine and the reason why or how it got there is still unknown to us. We parked our van under the few trees available, hoping for some shade and later that evening the trees became very alive with occupants we can only guess at. Thankfully they stayed clear of our roof and settled down for the night when we did. Tom spotted a centipede but was told no worries by a fellow camper. We also learned that in Australia copperhead snakes, also well known in Arkansas, are considered shy and harmless even while the bite is venomous. Camping near the outback invites you to see the bush becoming alive at dusk and when shining a lantern beyond the field, many staring eyes greeted us.
Before Sydney, we turned back to the coast, to the Grand Pacific Drive which connects sleepy seaside towns and offers spectacular scenery from subtropical rainforests to dramatic coastal cliffs and unspoiled beaches. It is still relatively unknown and not receiving the attention of the Great Pacific Drive and we accidently stumbled on it on our way to Melbourne and planned to return and spend our last camping day on the beach in Coledale. The sunrises here are amazing, slowly a fierce red ball is pulled up out of the ocean and its intense heath burns away any clouds still lingering. From early morning on kids can be found surfing and with many coming in groups and identical shirts over wetsuits we wonder if surfing 101 is their first class period of the day. Throughout the day school kids come and go on the beach, what a great way to utilize this fantastic resource for play ground and PE. Like New Zealand, most of the Australian schools have adhered to a very traditional school uniform. While now in early autumn, all are still in summer uniform, the girls wear short, white ankle socks with their Mary Jane shoes and the skirts are remarkably shorter at the end of the day when rolled up. Boys are in short pants (not shorts) and with knee socks pulled up only knobby knees are exposed. Shirt, tie and blazer make up the rest as well as a mandated summer hat, in school colors, to bring shade from the sun. Protection from the sun is highly encouraged here as seen by the slip-slap-slop campaign. Slip on a shirt, slap on a hat and slop on the sunscreen. While we found different brands of sunscreens, they all are SPF 30+, since any less are considered frying oils. With the sun’s potency here and in New Zealand I wonder if any light skinned humans were ever meant to live way down under. The beach and what it offers to adults and youth alike is much appreciated by the Australians and not even in Hawaii have we seen such skilled, young surfers. Last week, while in Melbourne with Ern and Kelsay we watched 60 minutes, Australian style, and it showed coverage of the young boy attacked by a white shark on Bondi Beach on the first Sunday we were in Sydney. He is recovering nicely and fortunate to keep his leg which had been quite shredded and the cameras did not mind giving gruesome details. It was clear that this young boy can’t wait to be back in the waters and surf once again. While here, we heard of other shark attacks and daily planes fly overhead to keep out an eye. We honored that sharks feed at dawn and dusk and stayed clear of the waters at those times.
After almost 2 months of New Zealand and Australia down under culture we will miss their outlook on life. Their conservatism is limited to what we were truly given domain over and we have been very impressed with the care given to the animal kingdom here, maintaining natural resources and making it the responsibility of all. It was refreshing to see signs on our hikes, not forbidding us to enter places which could be dangerous but instead reminding us to be prepared, have our smarts about us and that rescue was free if one had prepared well, otherwise the cost would be ours. Empowering through granting responsibility and not putting laws in place which often are obscured through limited, narrow vision. Driving through Sydney, for the third time, did not become any easier. In America we are so spoiled with bypasses and expect a bypass to be just that, a road that does not take one near a large town, preferably not within 30miles. Alas, Sydney does not offer those. We were told to take M3 and that it would help somewhat. Taking M3 through Sydney as a bypass is like taking 5th Avenue in New York to avoid traffic. We spent about 3 hours on a Thursday afternoon creeping through Sydney and figured out why this city boasts a population of 4 million. It’s made up of people who just sheer gave up trying to find their way out and remained. One plus of that drive was seeing close-up the stadium where Sydney hosted the 2000 Olympic Games and of which to this day they rightfully talk about. Days later, we saw the Melbourne Olympic Stadium, a city equally bestowed with the Olympic honor, many years earlier. (1956?)
It was here that I learned in passing how one can tell the English apart from the Dutch. The English are too polite to be honest and the Dutch are too honest to be polite. The Australians we met these past three weeks say it as it is, they do not beat around the bush and I wonder if Dutch culture eventually rubbed off more than the visible English. From each of our spots we sent a package of that what we accumulate so our carrying load does not increase and we include the leftover coins for our son –in-law, teacher Mr. Bubba Corbitt’s class kids and tonight, our last night here all that is left is an AZ $50.00 note which will do fine buying dinner. Like New Zealand dollar bills, the Australian bills are colorful, making each note immediately recognizable and made so they are waterproof and even after a trip through the washing machine or ocean surf they are as good as new. I should take a picture of the $50.00 since Edith Bowen’s likeness on the bill resembles an uncanny resemblance to Robin Williams, Mrs. Doubtfire character and we have been calling these notes” Mrs. Doubtfires”. Shopping with Lent ending and Easter nearing brought the chocolate goodies on the aisle’s. Some years ago a campaign started to bring in the stores the chocolate bilby’s and let the Europeans and America keep the chocolate Easter bunnies. We were very fortunate to see Australia’s unique marsupial firsthand in the Healesville sanctuary and I burst out laughing in pure joy when first seeing this animal of the dark. It belongs in a Lord of the Rings movie and God’s sense of humor comes through loud and clear with creation surely taking a break and playing a Mr. Potato Head game. Visualize pink fuzzy bunny ears attached to the face and spout of a possum with a shiny Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer nose. Add it to the stocky, lopsided build of a young wallaby with the multicolored tail of a calico cat and voila…. Here is the Australian Bilby and we totally agree…only Chocolate bilby’s are good enough for the children here.
Before dawn tomorrow we are heading for the airport and a 9.5 hour flight to intimidating, mystical Asia with our first stop Bangkok. Last fall, planning this sabbatical around the world trip we took the necessary shots and yesterday started taking a malaria pill which we now will take daily until 4 weeks after leaving Nepal and India, our later Asia stops.
Exciting once again and we are approaching it with the final Wicked Wisdom as seen yesterday in Sydney.
“The mind is like a parachute. It works best when it is open”.
G’day from the Southern Cross.

Tom and Els

Today, Wednesday March 18, we are on a Phillip Island, a small nature reservation about 90 minutes South East of Melbourne where last night we observed the amazing Penguin Parade. At dusk we gathered on Summerland beach while far out in the ocean, the smallest known penguin species, appropriately named “little penguins”, were regrouping, forming rafts, after their long solitary fishing day. Knowing of the safety in numbers, these little penguins wait out in the ocean, staying clear of the sharks for which they are tasty snacks and it is not until the last colorful lights are fading in the West when in large groups they head for the shore. When deemed safe by the raft leader and with lots of cackles, they leave the water and run across the beach, well knowing of their vulnerability out in the open for the large birds of prey. As soon as they hit the dunes, and now somewhat obscured through grasses and dune vegetation, many take a long break before waddling up on tiny legs to their burrows some as much as a mile away. Since we were considered guests of the penguins and invited into their sanctuary, strict rules were in place regarding pictures. No cameras are allowed to protect the sensitive eyes of the penguins and their trust of the places they call home. These penguins average about a foot in height with weight around a couple of pounds except those ready to moult for winter which means staying in the burrow for the next ten days or so while old feathers are shed to nest the home and allowing winter feathers to come in place. Those little penguins stocked up for the duration and with bellies filled appeared about twice the size of their skinny buddies and it was endearing seeing those little fatties, with their large white satiny bellies, plop down at times before attempting the hike up. If some rested too long, the next group running out of the ocean let them know their time was up. Hundreds of little penguins find the way home, to these burrows, nightly. The smell of so many penguins’ close by their underground homes was distinct, like a fishy chicken coop. Truly a feat and we are thrilled to have been a part of their homecoming last night, visible under the lights of the Southern Cross and waning moon.
We ventured out to Phillip Island Nature conservation upon direction from our new friends and hosts in Melbourne, Ern and Kelsay Hermeler. Kelsay is a cousin of Conway friend and neighbor Stephanie Shachmut and like Stephanie, Kelsay and Ern were born and raised in South Africa. Kelsay and Stephanie’s fathers were brothers and Kelsay shared many stories of their early years in Johannesburg. Ern is the son of a Dutch father and German mother who immigrated to South Africa in 1938. Like Stephanie, Ern and Kelsay left South Africa as young adults and after living in England, New York and Chicago they settled in Melbourne and raised their family. In their home, throughout, pictures can be found of the passing years and mixed with the pictures of their twin daughters are pictures of Stephanie and Jeff’s double set of twins while growing up. These are the very same children we saw while they were busy growing up across the street from us for the last 19 years and so special to see now continents away. We spent three great days with Ern and Kelsay who showered us in kindness, hospitality and showed us around Melbourne and the insight on how to navigate the city on our own. All we knew of them beforehand was a telephone number from Stephanie and her message to go and see them. We arrived in Melbourne on Saturday and brought, once again, the much needed rain. While Tom was steering the way towards Melbourne I was navigating while not quite sure which direction to attack Melbourne. Telepathy must work , unconsciously I sent Tom within blocks of the Hermeler home and when calling they were stunned that we were that close and while Kelasy gave us the last directions she sent Ern to the street corner to meet and greet us. You know you have found the right place when on a Melbourne Street corner, under an umbrella, one finds a man donned with a Red razorback hog hat, who enthusiastically waves our wicked van over. While Kelsay stayed home on Sunday, preparing a scrumptious meal of roasted leg of lamb, Ern took us out to Yarra Valley, North of Melbourne where like Hunter Valley , lots of wineries can be found as well as flower nurseries. For a time it felt like being home in Noord-Holland with the many hothouses in the Yarra valley, advertising tulip festivals , transporting flowers worldwide, and all carrying a Dutch name. When so many Dutch moved here to Australia they brought their talents, knowledge and expertise to create home once again. We found the same to be true while exploring Melbourne on Monday. Melbourne in size is almost the same as Sydney but we found the city to be gentler, with a very distinct English character. Melbourne with its broader streets and linear design eases navigation for tourists and locals alike and also boast great public transportation through trams and buses which one can find throughout the city and suburbs. There is great rivalry between Melbourne and Sydney and probably therefore neither was named the capital and that honor befell on Canberra. Tom and I spent last Monday in Melbourne and walked for hours from one royal named park to another until we finally arrived at the Royal Botanical gardens. It is incredible how a city living in drought through recycling and reusing the same waters can keep these parks and flowers alive. This was our fifth visit to a Southern Hemisphere Botanical garden and they were formed, planted to give the settler a feeling of home. In old Melbourne, Victorian homes line the streets, together with the English Elms and while most of these Elms succumbed to diseases in the Northern Hemisphere, here in Melbourne, where they are not native they thrive. Downtown Melbourne one can also find the National Gallery of Victoria which is open to the public and we wandered through the Bugatti exhibition, encompassing three generations and four remarkable individuals and their talents. Not far from there we walked up to the Shrine of Remembrance, Australia’s memorial not to war but to the many Australian lives and dreams lost in wars the Australian men were sent .
Comparing the territories of Victoria and New South Wales is as impossible as holding Texas next to California, or attempting to find likeness between like New England and the Southern States. Today, while sitting down and find a way to share this past week what comes to mind is that sometimes it is the minute details which make the difference. In New Zealand, one was made aware of passing lanes while here in Australia one does not pass, instead one overtakes. That little word, overtake, can make a huge difference. Weeks ago, upon first arriving in Australia, we made a small list of that what we hoped to see while here. We voted out Ayer’s rock immediately since that compares with landing in New York and driving to see the Big Faithfull geyser in Yellowstone, snapping a quick picture there, before heading back to NY, and never stopping to see anything else. Our plans were manageable, however cyclone Hamish threw in a wrench and stopped our travels up the Northern shore at port Macquarie. So, we headed South towards Tasmania and brought the storm there and stayed instead in Melbourne and Phillips Island and now looking back it was in our attempt to pass that we were taken over and richer because of it. Arriving in Victoria only weeks after their devastating fires is intimidating. On our drive down, outside of the village of Batemans bay signs alerted us of smoke in the area, no longer the smoke of the devastating bushfires, instead of the controlled bushfires which are a big controversy in Australia. Does one keep the brush alive below the Eucalyptus or control its growth so that it will not be added fuel when the fires are out of control? Even controlled bushfires are scary and intimidating in Australia and we felt its heat and inhaled the smoke and sent a prayer for all that was lost, over 200 human lives, millions of animals and uncountable trees. Together with Ern Hermeler we visited Healesville Sanctuary in Yarra Valley, a place where many of the animals who did not die in the fire are slowly healing from their injuries. Strangely, Healesville is not named for that what I think they do, a village of healing. Again, we were rained upon and while surrounded in the black and brown vegetation created by drought and fire create, green peeked through once again and showed us this color’s forgiveness. Healesville sanctuary is a place where animals regroup, recover and it was a marvelous place for us. We needed to see a wombat not injured or dead by the side of the road , and while I had not expected to be licked by a wallaby it was great for one to stop and pose .
Sanctuary’s, these places we call home while home is a place of mind. While walking the sea walk in Port Macquarie we passed the boulders which over the years have been painted many different colors by the ones who like us stayed here. Each boulder tells a story, painted in many bright colors and we delighted in reading the rocks, often in memory of a special person while the colors tell us why. Days later I walked by a small beach near Coledale on the Grand Pacific Drive. There I found a statue of a sail ship named “Comradeship” in honor of a man named Michael Dwyer who was born in the small hospital across the road and lived his short 50 year fit fully in this small town and when not educating its youngsters sailing with friends on a boat he designed and built named comradeship. It is an incredible statue where the sails, remarkable like angels wings, are set to take and be lifted from wind of all directions. It was this walk which took me back to the place Marianne and Bob carefully looked for and found for their son Ben and where some of his ashes rest, a place where nothing stands in between Ben and the Rockies he so loved.
Sanctuary’s, while never good enough to take the place can take a place where memories and healing happen.
Tomorrow we are heading back to Sydney, this time not by the coast, instead by Hume Highway. Shorter by far, less distinct on the maps by beauty. It will be one of those drives thrilled in the first 30 minutes by its unique barren views only to see these same views again and again for the next 1000 KM, like being enthralled by Texas or Kansas on the first day.
We are taking our time and when in need of scenery will head back once again to the ocean before braving Sydney on Saturday when return of our Wicked French pooter van is due.
G’Day, Tom and Els

We are in Port Macquarie, a small town steeped in history and like all of early Australia once a recommended convict penal settlement and proud of it. Since Saturday we have drifted up the coast, stopping at sights and beaches and here we have chosen to stay a couple of days. It offers long coastal walks connecting the many beaches while in between the beaches one walks through the bush with its lively, colorful birds and crawling critters. Port Macquarie also has two MacDonald’s where one can connect to the best and fastest wireless internet in Australia without paying a dime after ordering a great cappuccino and a fresh baked muffin or scone. We spent most of the morning there while rain and heavy surf were hitting this coastal town thanks to Cyclone Haney which is causing quite some damage in Cairn, many days and Kilometers North of us. Australia is in dire need of the rain so we share in the thanksgiving however when the sun peeked out once again this afternoon we happily took off for the beach. We are equally as far away from the bushfires in Victoria but hope to head towards Melbourne later this week.
Some backtracking since our last entree. Friday night our hosts Kim and Garnet took us to their Club for the weekly Chook Raffle. Years ago, when chickens in Australia were still a rare luxury these raffles were put in place with raw chicken being the grand price. Chicken no longer is rare here; it is very available in the gocery store for all to throw on their own barbi. (BBQ is found in every home, Caravan Park or rest stop by the side of the road). Kentucky Fried Chicken is in near every town we have passed but still, these raffles were fun and Australians believe in having a fun, no worries time, and so the Chook raffles continue with now different meat platters and legs of lamb as the prizes. We did not add luck to the draw since our table left with no winnings but great fun we had and Kim and I did end up with extra coins after playing the club’s penny slot machines while Tom met up with great characters on the club’s patio.
The next morning Tom and I headed towards Hunter valley, Australia’s oldest and best known wine region. Arriving in this large river valley with its only industry wine making, we drove around somewhat lost down very bumpy and isolated country roads where kangaroos do cross, as now seen by us. We had no idea there were so many different wineries to select from to take a tour and ended up, in a round-about way in the small city of Cessnock where we decided to stop and ask for direction in the local Information kiosk. Out front was a white board with the daily attractions posted and scanning this on the way in , my eyes fell on what was half way down on the board, in very small letters but jumped out big; ERIC CLAPTON, today at Hope Winery! Surely they were kidding! We walked in and headed for the desk. Mind you, there are many wineries in the valley, and the information desk cannot promote one over the other so they could or would not give us any information beyond that yes, Eric Clapton would perform live at Hope Reservation, 5 minutes down the road but whether tickets were available or the price they did not know. They did say that he was drawing almost the same crowd as Diana Ross and that the Who were coming later in the month. With so many wineries in the valley, all producing great wines they are adding special resources to draw the tourists to come and sample their wine and it worked for us. We forgot about the Tyrrell vineyard we had thought about touring and trekked up to Hope and ended up in that great window of opportunity where we arrived at the same time as the security hired who really were not one bit concerned that we parked hours before gate-opening and purchased tickets before the Box opened and only said “no worries” while allowing us to sit out on our camping chairs and listening while 50 meters away, Eric Clapton was cutting up and warming up for the nights show. Absolutely unbelievable. Tom happily traded in Eric Clapton for next weekend’s missed Katoomba Blues/Aborigine festival. Three other great bands played before we started rocking, singing along and dancing to Layla, Wonderful tonight , all his great songs and even ending with Cocaine while I once read he would no longer perform that song live. (maybe he meant in the US). Great fireworks were displayed at the end to keep the crowd from leaving all at once and throughout security guards who with genuine kindness wanted to make sure that all were having a grand time. Tom and I still look at each other and marvel at driving in a small town on a Saturday afternoon and hours later watch and listen to Eric Clapton. Moment in time, meant to be, while all we did was aimlessly setting out and see what Hunter valley was about.
We are still getting used to this ”no worries”, the Aussies are fond of using constantly and often it takes the place of other English sayings. I have decide it can mean, “You are welcome, have a good day, check out time is irrelevant, no, the fish are not biting today but who cares, your van is great and everything in between. Combine G’day with “no worries” and great conversations can be had with the Aussies. The English heritage comes through strongly as evident with the sports played; rugby, bowling on grass while wearing funny hats, Polo, cricket and equestrian clubs where one still wears jodhpurs and the correct hat while bouncing English style in the saddle. I have even started to drink tea since it is easier to find a good cupa tea than a good, brewed cup of coffee. We are now well used to driving left and in Australia there are many other speed signs beyond the New Zealand 100km. Traffic flows well with its constant use of roundabouts and it is just as well Tom and I are not yet heading back to the States since we would have trouble now driving back on the right. Coins floored us first since the $2.00 coin is by far the smallest of the coin bunch and easily overlooked. The Southern cross constellation once again shines bright at night with the extra star which is displayed on the Australian flag faintly visible on clear, dark nights.
We are once again adapting to another culture and its great people.

G'day, Tom and Els