A semi-serious adventure

kwietnia - października 2015
  • Kim and Alex
186-dniowa przygoda według Kim and Czytaj więcej
  • Kim and Alex

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  • 180ślady stóp
  • 186dni
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  • Bondi Beach, Sydney

    18 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    After seeing blue skies from the shower room window, Alex bounced up the stairs like a child on Christmas morning, to look out across the roof terrace at a cloudless Sydney morning. Eager to make the most of this break in the poor weather we decided to hike the Bondi Beach to Coogee Beach coastal trail (there might have been no clouds but it still wasn’t sunbathing weather). This is a 12km return trail but because we are complete hiking masochists by now we decided to walk to and from Bondi Beach adding a further 12km to this.

    We walked through Kings Cross with its bustling farmer’s market and cafes serving coffee and artisan eggs on toast to a weekend brigade. Past car dealerships selling super cars to the city’s financial elite we climbed up through Bellevue Hill with large homes sat behind gates and foliage, reminding us of Los Angeles. We gently descended down to Bondi Beach, which rose to prominence at the beginning and throughout the 20th century with the boom in surfing, which is now synonymous with this beach. The winter season did not keep people away and there were many on the trail, on the sands and even in the water. We past the famous Bondi Baths, swimming pools built adjacent and level to the sea. On a calm summer day this would be very appealing but today strong winds threw thunderous waves against the pools’ foundations that crashed upwards and across the calmer waters of the pools. On the trail we past people playing volleyball on the beach, boys playing rugby in the parks and a steady stream of runners along the trail. Sydney appears to have a positive attitude with being outside and active, even on a winter’s day.

    The trail rose and fell to curve with the contours of the wild coastline. Moon face rock jutted out on the peninsulas to be buffeted by winds and sea spray whilst soft sands slept in quiet coves. A paint palette of colour covered the landscape, turquoise and cobalt waters thrashed white against yellow and brown of rock and sand, which was dressed on the edges in the greens of plant life.

    Rounding a further peninsula we came across possibly the most scenic final resting place in the world, Waverly Cemetery, where old vaults and tombstones stretched down the hills to the very edge of the wild coastline (plots available apparently). Yet we did not rest until we reached Coogee Beach, eating lunch in front of captive audience of seagulls. On the return we blissfully found the winds at our backs to propel our aching knees and feet forward. Stopping to marvel at surfers twist and turn their way through chaotic waves, we finished the final return leg to our hostel before the sun came down.

    Tomorrow we may sit.
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  • Sydney

    19 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    After our journeys through the art and natural world we decided to take a trip back in time to discover how Sydney and Australia was formed at the Hyde Barracks Museum, a World Heritage Site that exhibits ‘Convict Sydney’.

    The carefully restored 19th century barracks is rather inconspicuous beyond being atheistically appealing amongst the typical backdrop of city office blocks. Yet this belies its significance in the founding of this nation. Long before its co-ordinated streets, beautiful gardens and iconic landmarks were constructed, Sydney was a small swampy penal colony. As crime and imprisonment spiralled in Britain, policy makers sought a new deterrent by sending those convicted to Australia to serve their sentences.

    The barracks’ brick and timber structure was built by the same hands of those who were sent under this policy who were used as a cheap source of labour for the construction of the city’s infrastructure. Rooms on the top floor of the barracks house long rows of hammocks where some of these sent resided. Other displays illustrated the conditions experienced and whilst we have heard a number of well-meaning jokes about the country being full of convicts (particularly from Kiwis in New Zealand), it’s a sad and compelling foundation to a city and country. It was unsurprising to learn that by the 1840s the citizens of Sydney petitioned against receiving any further ships of convicts from Britain due to both the repeated offending of some as well as exposure to the treatment dealt out by officials. Hangings, lashings and chain gangs evoked images of the slave trade in the Americas.

    Yet despite Sydney no longer receiving convicts, other places in the country continued to do so for many years to come. In total, over a period of nearly 80 years, 166,000 men, women and children were deported from Britain to Australia. Such genealogy used to be source of shame and was hidden by families. Yet with changing attitudes since the 1970s it has almost become a ‘badge of honour’ to have a convict ancestor. The museum contained a census of names but we found no Stringers or Radloffs.

    Even after the cessation of this policy, many thousands of people continued to be ‘assisted’ to migrate to Australia and the museum also told their stories. Young women and children whose parents/families had died or were unable to care for them were sent through the 19th and into the 20th century due to Australia being naively, even negligently, seen as an answer to British societal woes. To further appreciate this we would highly recommend reading/watching ‘Oranges and Sunshine’, a powerful representation of the abusive child migration programmes that existed well into the 20th century.
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  • Sydney to Byron Bay

    20 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 15 °C

    Although we were leaving Sydney for Byron Bay, our Greyhound bus did not depart until 6:00pm, giving us the day to spend in the city.

    We wandered back through the tranquil floral expanse of The Royal Botanical Gardens to sit upon Mrs Macquarie's Chair and look out upon Sydney's harbour. The chair was carved out of the rock at the start of the 19th century for the wife of the city's governor as she regularly visited the vantage point.

    From there we walked around Farm Cove, which gave us panoramic views of the city. Ferries slipped in and out of view as they rounded the opera house to enter the quay. The steady flow of traffic rippling the waters out to the edge of the cove. Tourists took photographs whilst the locals simply tried to get on with their day. Sat back against the tree line a large stone engraving commemorated the point where Queen Elizabeth II first came ashore in Australia on her tour in 1954.

    Once back at the ferry quay we ventured into The Rocks, where the weather had previously deterred us from exploring. At a small museum we learnt that the area had traditionally housed ex-convicts and working class families who were heavily involved in the construction of the city, including its harbour bridge. They had to vehemently resist attempts through the 20th century to develop and modernise the area, which would have seen its buildings bulldozed and its history lost for high rise offices to house big business. Fortunately it was conserved and we stopped to soak in the atmosphere (and some beer) at The Lord Nelson, Australia's oldest pub brewery.

    Darkness descended and it was time to board the bus for our 13 hour journey to Byron Bay. We chose to travel overnight so we didn't have to spend a whole day sitting on a bus but it also spared the cost of a night's accommodation (backpacker budgets). The journey wasn't as bad as expected because we managed to sleep through most of it!
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  • Byron Bay

    21 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 15 °C

    We were tired and disorientated when we set foot off the bus into the dim early morning light of Byron Bay. We staggered into the local supermarket for breakfast supplies before slanting off like backpacking zombies in the direction of our hostel.

    The hostel offers a free shuttle bus service at specific times of the day but we had just missed one and another did not arrived for 2 hours. So we lugged ourselves and our rucksacks through the wet gloom. Now we never have or will expect any sympathy as we are on a brilliant adventure, however the walk to the hostel was one of the most difficult we have encountered due to the wet weather and fatigue. We like to think we’re a pretty determined pair but at one point we both dumped our bags down for a breather and to gain a better sense of direction.

    As it was we arrived at the hostel quickly after this and it was much to our relief that the ACDC loving surfer/receptionist let us check in 6 hours before we normally should be able to. After showers, breakfast and a nap we felt a lot better and when the weather perked up we strolled back into town along the wide golden beach that is a stone’s throw from the hostel.

    Byron Bay has a strong surfing culture and the town reminded us of Queenstown with its trendy cafes and shops selling apparel related to its adopted sport. Tomorrow we plan to try some surfing ourselves but today we just hung out in hammocks in the hostel’s garden of palms, ferns and birdlife.
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  • Byron Bay

    22 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 15 °C

    The night’s rain dripped methodically off the garden’s foliage as we breakfasted on a creamy porridge with strawberries, bananas and oven roasted nuts. Tie-dye sheets hung from a sheltered washing line whilst a colony of ants marched up a drainpipe. Out of sight wildlife nattered and chirped, making the sounds of laser beams and rattles.

    We decided to immerse ourselves into this hipster surfer’s paradise by taking a morning class of yoga. Drawing back the heavy fabric door, we ducked into a marque tent of Hindu imagery, calming music and scented candles. We sat in a semi-circle of mats as our calm instructor, Jane, took us through a class of restorative moves. Kim had tried yoga before but never with Alex, for whom this was a first. Whilst it took time for our brains to truly relax by the final ‘svastha’ we were completely ‘chilled out’.

    Feeling like new age hipsters and beaming with energy we took a quick lunch before heading off for an afternoon surf lesson. Our instructor, James, was every bit the stereotype we had in our minds of an Australian surfer ‘dude’. Tanned skin, crow’s feet around his eyes and a beard peppered with greys whilst his sun bleached hair was tied back. Radiating cool with his accent and persona, he looked like he might have been born on a wave. After donning our wetsuits and receiving beach side instruction we took our boards out onto the waves.

    Treading the water, we watched and waited with giddy anticipation as the waves rolled in. Jumping up onto our boards we paddled hard as the rush of white water clipped the back accelerating us forward. This was our signal to get up into a standing position and surf our way out. However describing it and rehearsing it on the beach is one thing, doing it and staying upright on the board was another. As the staff said, ‘practice practice practice’ and once we started we couldn’t get enough. Our wetsuits and adrenaline kept us warm as we nosedived and tumbled into the water again and again. Salt water filled our mouths and blurred our vision but each time we strode back out into the waves, eager to improve our technique.

    When the moment came that we succeeded, it was exhilarating, so much so that all the technique left us and we fell back into the water whopping with laughter. As our session came to an end James announced ‘one more wave’ but neither of us wanted to leave and we sneaked in as many waves as we could before it was finally time to go.

    Alas there are no photographs of us surfing to share as we were unable to take our own and the company running the surf lesson wanted alot of money for just the few pictures of us. Those that they showed us were more funny than cool but we had a brilliant time!
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  • Byron Bay to Brisbane

    23 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 17 °C

    We left Byron Bay as rain and festival goers descended for the weekend’s Splendour Music Festival. Where it had coasted, the town now bustled. Hundreds of excited arrivals sought out wellingtons and tarpaulin as tattoos, piercings and long hair mingled with lost faces and wild eyes. The smells of wet pavement, oil bus exhaust and body odour intermingled.

    Our bus took us away from the frenzy, through a cleansing carwash of rain to cross the state border into Queensland and our destination Brisbane. Fortunately once we arrived the rain clouds dispersed and the sun reappeared to welcome us like an old friend. Walking from the bus station to our hostel the air was humid and the sun warm against our skin. We went down to t-shirts (Alex even broke out the shorts) and the hostel owner asked with surprise if we were cold. We laughed freely as whilst it might be winter, at 18 degrees it was positively summer compared to our experiences in New Zealand.

    We returned into the city to explore what we could before moving on tomorrow (we plan to return for longer when we travel back to Sydney). We walked along the banks of the River Brisbane as ferries jetted back and forth and the locals docked their pleasure boats by the entrance to the city’s gardens. Through the tree shaded walkways the scent of orange drifted on the air. Mangroves sat in the shallows as the late afternoon stretched shadows and cast amber onto the water. Rounding the peninsula and returning into the city we past old colonial design, white verandas laced with dark green palm that gave way to fire forged brick and gothic churches on English street names, all echoing days of Empire.
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  • Brisbane to Rainbow Beach

    24 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    The title of 'Sunshine State' for Queensland did not disappoint as we moved northward. It was a novelty for the temperature on the bus to be cooler than that outside.

    It is true what we were told by those we met in New Zealand and who had travelled this part of Australia. In New Zealand the distances between points of interest are shorter and the scenery more compelling. Where as in this part of Australia it can be hours and hours of motorway and bush. The only thing worth writing home about on the way to our destination was a giant kangaroo model at the Matilda roadside services. It was big.

    Rainbow Beach is a sleepy (for winter) seaside town where all the hostels are on one street. We stopped there because it's our launch pad to Fraser Island where we'll spend the weekend on a 4WD tour. We strolled across the small town and along its much larger beach before heading up to the Carlo Sandblow, a giant sand dune sitting above the town.

    As we broke out of the forested pathway we were greeted by a desert landscape that bowled from East to West. In the fading light the eastern side threw shadows of blue whilst the western edge burned orange against the setting sun. We sat on the sandy slopes, high above the tree line, to watch the sun make its final descent. The sky turned rust to gold to lilac in the peaceful minutes before darkness enveloped us.
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  • Rainbow Beach to Fraser Island

    25 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    We departed early to catch the ferry to Fraser Island and make the most of the day. Collected in a converted off-road military transport we squeezed onto the platform of the small barge that transports traffic across the beach heads. With no dock the barge cruised right onto the island's southern beach and we rushed off the ramp with the other vehicles like an amphibious invasion.
    It felt like 'Wacky Racers' as we shot off across the long strip of beach between tide and forest. Our Mercedes engine roaring hard to accelerate over the sand and leave a field of 4x4s in our wake.

    We passed those who had arrived before us, collecting fishing bait from the sands whilst a lone Dingo shadowed them. With only 250 of the species on the entire island we were lucky to see this one at all. Nevertheless there are many warning signs to the predatory nature of the Dingos and how to keep yourself safe from attacks (go big, go aggressive - lesson for life right?).

    We stopped at Lake Mckenzie where a white silica beach slid into the waters, dropping quickly and deeply, changing the colour from aqua to cobalt to almost black at its centre. Within 2-3 metres from the shoreline you were up to your neck and although the temperature was cold, our bodies quickly adjusted under the warm protection of the sun. The water was beautifully clear and the silica is so fine that it can be used as an exfoliant.

    Fraser Island's mass is completely sand but it is very diverse in both plant and wildlife. We walked through humid rainforest of giant ferns, straggling vines and towering trees. Water silently flowed through shallow sandy creeks, giving the illusion that the water was static. This is because our minds associate flowing water with the sound it makes over rock beds, which does not exist here.

    After hiking through forests of white gum, satnay and kauri trees we stopped to rest in an opening where our heads turned full tilt to look up to the canopy above. A patchwork of light and foliage played in the sky with the only sounds in the cooling air being bird calls and our own breathing.
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  • Fraser Island

    26 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 24 °C

    Deep culverts in the sand roads threw us about in our seats as we traversed our way out of the rainforest's emerald green cover to drive up the beach to the Maheno shipwreck.

    The Maheno was a steam cruise liner that once held the time for the fastest crossing between Sydney to Auckland. During the First World War it was used as a hospital ship before becoming obsolete and sold for scrap. When its tow lines broke during a storm it became wrecked on the sands of Fraser Island. Used as target practice by the Australian Navy it is now a ghostly husk of itself.

    Barnacles and limpets clung to its decaying underbelly, it's metal skeleton a brittle black stained with streaks and botches of rust. Port holes and steam exhausts silhouetted against the bright colours of sand and wave. This lonely fossil stands in contrast to all around it, viewable for miles on the flat open sands.

    Further up the beach we sat in rock pools named the Champagne Pools because of the fizz that the tide creates when the white water crashes over the outer rocks. Whilst the angry sea frothed outside, the pools were an oasis of calm. Scales glittered beneath a rippling glass of water as fish of many sizes and colours darted away from our feet to disappear under rocks or deeper water. Flanks of Silver, specks of bronze and gold and stripes of black and white led a colourful parade.

    On the cliffs at Indian Head, sea and sky met in perfect union as the beach swept away on either side. The rocks plummeted down to where two metre long sharks patrolled the swaying surf. Rays stealthy glided beneath the chop whilst further out dolphins crested the waves. In the distance a puff a spray denoted a whale's movement.

    Finally at Eli Creek, where fresh water floated down through quiet bush to meet the beach, we floated on rubber tubes between sand bars and beneath the tendrils of hanging trees. The water was cold and clear as the air was held still and warm in the shelter of the creek.
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  • Fraser Island to Rainbow Beach

    27 lipca 2015, Australia ⋅ 🌙 18 °C

    Morning sunlight beamed in stripes through the rainforest canopy, catching bark and leaf on its way down to the forest floor. Trees reached skyward as if they were dancers stretching before a performance. The dimensions of the forest changed as we bounced along the sandy track to Lake Birabeen, where like Lake McKenzie, white silica beaches led out to clear fresh waters.

    We carried inflatable paddle boards out to the water's edge and took them out onto the midnight blue lake. A cool wind created ripples that bounced under our feet, firmly planted on the boards. We drove our paddles down to propel out of the shallows and into the deep. Quickly figures on the beach shrank and the only noises were the wind whispering past our ears, the cut of the paddles and the slap of water on the boards. Tensing our bodies to maintain balance and avoid a cold bath we steered our way around grass rushes and back to shore.

    Afterwards we hiked out to the Hammerstone Sandblow, at the bottom of which lies Lake Wabby. Although we had already hiked the Carlo Sandblow at Rainbow Beach, the enormity of Hammerstone put Carlo in its shadow. Walking out of the forest trail we were taken aback by the desert landscape before us. The tiny figures of other hikers near the lake gave further perspective whilst black crows cried overhead. We followed markers down to the lake and although the temperature was in the mid 20s it felt hotter as we pulled our feet through the silky sands. It was tempting to break into a run down to its inviting waters of the lake. However we had been warned that every year people break their necks falling down the dunes or attempting to drive straight into the shallow waters. Taking heed, we trod carefully down the steep slope to bask in the sunshine and tranquility of the lake.

    So peaceful was it that Alex fell asleep, although this may have had something to do with the amount of food he had consumed in the last 24 hours. As we had paid for this trip long before we left the UK, we had forgotten that it was inclusive of food. Breakfasts, lunches and dinners were buffet style and in Alex's case, a literal all-you-eat-food-coma-inducing-bonanza. We eat healthy both at home and when we've been travelling but put Alex in front of a 'free' buffet and something takes over. The good news he did not go 'bang' and lives to see another buffet...
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