Where in Hell is Cape Reinga Light House?

500+ years old kauri tree

At Cape Reinga of course, right at the most northern tip of the North Island of New Zealand. And, we've been there! Hoorah!

It's a 400 km odd round trip from Paihia where we were staying at the Paihia Lodge Resort to Cape Reinga, so we decided to let someone else do the driving and signed up for a bus tour which began at the unholy hour of 7:15 am which meant we had to get out of bed at 6:30 am ... not all that impressed.

Our bus driver picked us up at our resort and away we drove with about 30 other tourists, even an older couple (yes, older than us) who are New Zealanders.

We drove for an hour to the Ancient Kauri Kingdom site with restaurant, kauri carving shop and something the driver called "fuddy duddly" which to New Zealanders apparently means toilets. Here we, yes, you guessed it, visited the fuddy duddly and picked up a cup of coffee for breakfast. We spent 20 minutes looking at the carvings which included a vertical staircase carved by chain saw out of a 3 metre kauri log.

When I see these things I am always amazed at what skills people have; to conceptualise a vertical , helical staircase and then cut it as well as it was takes real skill ... or perhaps a lot of trees.

From there, we drove farther north and after travelling 20 km or so through a forestry plantation of beautiful pine trees (there are literally millions here), we entered 90 Mile Beach. After a short delay with some tourists in a camper van who had become bogged getting off the beach, we drove onto the beach and headed north again. It reminded me of Frasers Island off the Queensland Coast. Flat and straight.

Our bus

The driver told us that going up the beach cut 25 minutes off the journey and that it was possible to travel at the max allowable 100 km/hr, which he did, driving through numerous areas of fresh water flowing from the nearby hills into the Tasman Sea to our left. We stopped for a short while at a spot along the beach and although the driver offered sufficient time for anyone wanting to swim, the opportunity, nobody braved the cold waters, even the young and hardy.

But, the young and hardy and a couple of older people did brave the sand dune boarding a few kilometres farther up the beach and into the hills. We declined. The thought of having sand in our clothes for another few hours didn't appeal, although I had given it serious thought with a view to retaining my Putin like "action man" image after white water rafting at Turangi. Not today.

Cape Reinga Lighthouse

Next stop was at Cape Reinga where we debussed and walked a couple of kilometres down a declining walkway to reach the light house. After taking a few snaps and reading the information boards, we walked up the incline which was excellent exercise for our hearts, minds and bodies generally. We've walked 5-8 km per day since arriving in NZ which is excellent for our health and fitness program.

From Cape Reinga, we drove for about 30 minutes to a lovely little cafe/service station where we had lunch that was provided as part of the tour cost. While there, suddenly eight police vehicles and as many police officers arrived and while the driver assured us they weren't after him, one of the officers revealed that they had been doing marihuana raids. This explained the helicopter we had seen near the forestry reserve carrying camera equipment (or perhaps sensing equipment?) hanging 20 metres below. Casting my mind back to the days when I was a police officer, I reminded myself that police have to eat too, they were simply there for lunch.

After a short stop during our return to allow people to attend to their fuddy duddly needs, we continued home along the winding road that runs through numerous small towns, all of which are beautiful as is the rest of New Zealand. At around 5:30 pm we arrived back at the Paihia Lodge ready for a shower, a glass of red and dinner.

Robin

PS: We are yet to visit Cape York Peninsula, the most northern part of Australia.

Mt Hutt Lodge and Region, New Zealand

Mt Hutt is both a mountain and a region. We stayed at Mt Hutt Lodge which is near Rakaia Gorge where a jet boat operates, there is a caravan park and people seem to spend time dipping their fishing lines into the fast flowing, grey-blue waters.

 Sitting with the curtains of our room pulled aside, I can see Mt Hutt in all its majesty standing tall with a line of white snow on top, reminding us that it has been here forever and will be here long after we have gone. Clouds cover all but the top of the mountain and seem to be lingering today as there is little wind.

As I write, I can hear the jet boat powering up with the gutterell sound typical of such engines. Speed has always been an attraction to we bipedal land lovers and I guess it's the speed that attracts people to want to travel aimlessly up and down the river with the boat's hull bumping up and down and the too cool wind blowing through their hair. There doesn't seem to be anything else going for it. At least at an aviation show, you get to smell the aviation fuel and see much more sophisticated maneouvering.

The Lodge is older, as can be seen from the photograph above and consists of both hotel style, short-term rooms and four timeshare apartments that are fully self-contained. Ours is comfortable for two people but has sufficient table, chair and movement space for perhaps four or five.

Yesterday we drove via Arthur's Pass to Springfield. There is a train journey you can take from Christchurch to Greymouth, but it's expensive so we decided to drive so we could see more of the sights and have the freedom to come and go as we pleased, which we did. We stopped at several lookouts, went for a long walk about the Castle Hill rocks (see entrance photo) and had lunch at a quaint cafe at Arthur's Pass with free entertainment from a friendly kea bird that landed on our table and without waiting for an invitation began helping itself to the scraps left on our plates. Chris took some video footage of the kea, which is a mountain parrott only found in the south island of NZ. Unfortunately, it's too large to upload. The photo here of the kea sign below tells a little about them.


Arthur's Pass is spectacular with a viaduct, a concrete, overhead structure on part of the road to safeguard drivers from rock falls, and several lookouts. We'd love to see it in winter full of snow although I don't know that I'd want to be driving on wet roads up and down the pass. Also, I expect there would be many more people here making driving and parking etc a little more hazardous.

Talking of people, I'd like a $10 note for every Recreational Vehicle I've seen ... there are literally thousands of them ... and I haven't seen the lot. It's obviously the way to see NZ; rent an RV and drive all over the place.

The adventure continues.

Robin

Christchurch's Container City

Container Coffee Shop

After the earthquake that devastated Christchurch in 2010, the shopkeepers whose livelihood had been taken away within a matter of hours, quickly devised a cost-effective and timely way to recover. They set up a container city within Christchurch.

When we visited Christchurch we were greatly impressed by the design, style and colours that people had used to re-enable their businesses. Everything from coffee shops to dress shops to a Westpac Bank were housed in nicely designed and outfitted cargo containers.

They stood near the buildings that had either withstood the event or that were vacant, pending dismantling. "Life goes on" was the order of the day.

When I saw the Christchurch church crumbled and lying in pieces on the ground, the thought passed my mind that the all powerful god people speak of and pray to couldn't save his church, but a less significant premises nearby was untouched. I already knew the answer to the question posed by that supposed dilemma.

We stopped at the coffee shop shown on the left for a cup of coffee and watched as our fellow tourists (obvious by their dress, backpacks and cameras) walked to and fro.

Others who appeared to be locals went about their business as normal, this one to the bank with a hessian bag full of something, perhaps the day's takings. 

That one, all decked out in suit and tie perhaps heading to the pub after a long and boring business meeting.

After finishing our coffee, it was late afternoon and we had a way to drive to get back to Mt Hutt, so we spent about half hour walking around the shops to see what they sold and headed for our car which we'd parked nearby.

Sadly, the containers will be removed in the next few years as the buildings are rebuilt or demolished and replaced with something grander, hopefully stronger and less prone to acts of nature.

When that happens and the last container is removed, we will only have the photographs and memories of the container city, evidence of humankind's resilience and ability to survive even the greatest odds.

Robin

The Antarctic Comes to Christchurch, NZ

Hagglund Vehicle and Trailer

The next best thing to a trip to the Antarctic is a visit to the International Antarctic Centre at Christchurch, New Zealand. The Centre is situated next door to buildings that house the staff that work for the New Zealand Government's Antarctic program and strategically positioned near the Christchurch Airport from where field staffs in Antarctica are resupplied.

Unfortunately, costs and time determine that you can never see everything you want when you visit another country or, for that matter, another city within your own country.

One of the places on our "preferred visits list" during our holiday in New Zealand was the Antarctic Centre which we had read about previously. So, we set off from our time share accommodation at Mt Hutt and arrived at the Antarctic Centre shortly after opening time.

Christina at a static display

It was a pleasant day and we decided as we'd probably never get to Christchurch again, we'd buy the ticket that included everything. We received a senior's discount too, which made it quite less expensive.

After touring the static displays and reading about New Zealand's Antarctic history, we visited a penguin nursery and a pool where we could see numerous penguins while they were being fed. Several were disabled in some way eg, one had a wing/fin that'd didn't articulate as it should and had difficulty not swimming in circles.

Probably the best event of our visit was the Hagglund vehicle ride which bumped along on its steel and rubber tracks, went up and over a few steep hills and through a deep pool of water. Grandson Tory would have loved it. We loved it!

Robin has an Antarctic freeze

Another event allows those silly enough to experience very low minus temperatures as in a windstorm in Antarctica. We were silly enough and it reminded us that some of our friends in Canada live in places where it gets just as cold. And they have to shovel snow from their driveway every day.

We were provided with thick overcoats and rubber booties and walked into what was really a deep freezer with several huge fans designed to rain down truck loads of snow at high speed.

Yes, it was cold ... very cold, but we weren't in the freezer long enough for the cold to really soak in. Both of us were wearing jeans and a shirt with a light pullover, so I've no doubt we would have become unbearably cold within 20 minutes or so.

As would be expected, the Centre has a nice little coffee shop where we finished up with a nice hot coffee and cake. We also bought a waterproof jacket each and then headed back to Mt Hutt having had another lovely day in New Zealand.

Robin

PS: This post has been posted well after the visit date, but to maintain blog order, I've changed to post date to ensure proper ordering

Edgewater Resort at Wanaka, New Zealand

Many years ago we bought a timeshare week at Beachhouse Resort on the Gold Coast. We have never stayed there, but it has allowed us to stay at other timeshares all over the world ... literally. Edgewater Resort is the first of four timeshare resorts in which we will stay while in New Zealand.

Every year we accrue a number of timeshare points based on the original six people timeshare at the Gold Coast. But, as there are only Christina and I, we book venues with lower capacity and thus get more bang for our buck. Essentially, although staying in timeshares is not free, the costs are considerably lower than one would pay in a motel, backpacker's lodge or other accommodation venue. We have paid for our accommodation in advance and know what standard we will get.

Timeshares like Edgewater are fully equipped with cooking, sporting, washing, and other living requirements. You could live in a timeshare forever and only need to buy your food and consumables. There is nothing to pay unless you use the telephone or decide to have a massage or other service that is optional and not included in the timeshare deal. They are, of course, much larger than motel rooms and better furnished. Much more a home away from home than other types of accommodation.

Before leaving Queenstown, we picked up a Toyota sedan hire car and visited a shopping centre where we bought $170 NZD worth of food and drinks. We do most of our own cooking which means that our expenses are minimised and after all, we'd be paying for food and drinks etc if we were living at home. Unless you are specifically into restaurant and cafe food, it tends to get monotonous eating out when you can simply knock up a nice sandwich yourself.

Edgewater Resort is integrated with a hotel and spread across quite a large property with beautiful greenery. Judging by the list of activities visible on foyer notice boards, it's a common venue for people to get married. Some lucky couple was being married when we arrived.

After taking a day to rewind and wash our clothes, we spent most of the rest of the week hitting a tennis ball, walking around the many pathways, and visiting the sites within a day's reach.

It's a hard life, but someone has to live it.

Robin

Wanaka's The Puzzling World

It's certainly puzzling ...

After a few days at Queenstown, we headed for Wanaka which is only a short hop from Queenstown. As would be expected, the sights are similar and the lake large and beautiful as the photo of part of Wanaka from the town lookout suggests.

Here, we attended a social get-together for timeshare guests where we had sausages in bread and coffee etc for lunch and chatted with our fellow travellers, most of whom were New Zealanders from the north visiting the south island. The barbecue setting is underneath a glorious old tree in an idyllic setting as shown in another photo I just had to take that also shows a water wheel in the foreground.

NZ has plenty of opportunities to get outdoors, despite the cold, and walk, so we have done a fair bit of that walking around the edge of the lake and within the nearby national park area. We also had a 45 minute game of tennis which got the pulse moving, which was part of our plan, to get some exercise while on holidays.

Most interesting was Wanaka's The Puzzling World which is designed to challenge your spatial, abstract and conceptual skills through working a variety of puzzles and entering rooms that are built at an angle sufficient to challenge your balance and perception. Very interesting indeed. I fiddled with a wooden, four piece puzzle for maybe 20 minutes managing to form two of the four shapes possible and then lost interest. It's demeaning to be beaten by a few pieces of wood!

Christina and I entered the reality-changing building which initially was like walking up a ramp while fighting against our old friend and foe, gravity. In this building, water appears to run uphill, a chair ride takes one uphill on its own accord when you press the release button, and various things you see aren't really what you see. As one of the great philosophers suggested, "we should be more interested in not what we see, but why we see it."

A couple of additional photos from the Puzzling House show part of the experience. The first is Robin with his arms through two nuts that look flat until photographed. The second is the water running uphill. 

Enjoy.

Robin

Our Tour to Milford Sound, New Zealand

Milford Sound ... Visiting by Bus

Milford Sound isn't that far from Queenstown as the crow flies, but it's a 12 hour round trip on the tour we took, departing at a sensible 8:15 am. As fate would have it, our bus driver "Oz" (give me a break) is an Australian turned New Zealander. Apparently, if you are an Aussie, it's fairly easy to get permanent residency in NZ. For some reason, the government likes us and gives us special treatment.

Mountains en-route to Milford Sound

He didn't say why he had transplanted to NZ many years ago, but locals tell is us it's a great escape from child maintenance that may otherwise be payable by men in Australia who don't wish to pay it. I'm not of course casting aspersions at Oz ... he may simply prefer the NZ way of life instead of the Aus way of life. Each to his own, but I'm advised that escaping child maintenance is a common motivation for expat Australians.

As would be expected, the trip to Milford Sound is via mainly winding roads and as it had recently rained, there were streaks of water creating water falls in most of the hills we passed. The driver gave us an ongoing oratory about the history, character and special events etc we passed, but of course by the time we had got to Milford Sound we had forgotten most of them. Information overload, but interesting at the time.

Some of the wild life here is unique. We haven't as yet seen a genuine, non-plastic kiwi, but hope to do so before the end of our trip. We saw a statue of a Moa, a larger, more imposing version of the emu at Queenstown.

According to one information board I read, the flightless birds of NZ were once capable of flight, but because there are very few ground level predators, they lost the faculty of flight because it was no longer needed. Now, I'm no evolutionary biologist, but that sounds like a lot of codswallop to me.

Evolutionary biology is full of examples of products that didn't quite work out. It seems more likely to me that the creatures grew wings that didn't work. Why would you give up the ability to do something very effective and functional? Everyone who's read Dawkins' books knows that reptiles grew wings to be able to traverse territory better and to do things like move from tree to tree. Present day lizards with large skin folds between their front and rear legs that glide are testimony to a work in progress; long after we have moved on, they will likely have wings.

The most favoured bird here is the Kea, a type of parrot which is large and apparently very friendly and playful (lovingly referred to as clown birds). We saw a couple on the ground while waiting to enter a tunnel on our return to Queenstown from Milford Sound, but unfortunately never got up close and personal to them.

Milford Sound is probably just a little more spectacular than the whole area here. The hills are a bit taller, the lake just as nice, and of course there is a fleet of tourist vessels waiting to take the thousands of tourists, like us, for a two hour cruise up the sound, which is really a fjord.

The slow, two hour trip up and back along the fjord as far as the Tasman Sea is pleasant with plenty of photographic opportunities. A handful of furry seals was lolling about on a rock providing a different sort of photographic opportunity from the rock walls of the escarpment and the dozens of waterfalls. Apparently the first few metres of the lake is fresh water with an underlying salt water base. Makes sense to me.

Having done the 12 hour trip, I don't think I'd bother to do it all again, but now I can say in true New Zealand speak, "bin thire, done thet."

Robin

Visiting New Zealand

Queenstown, obviously one of the best kept secrets

At left are a partial view of Queenstown from the mountain top and of their equivalent to a beach at the edge of the township.

We flew into New Zealand after a three hour, pleasent enough trip from Sydney and the first thing we saw was the huge rugged mountain range. I remember wondering where there would likely be a piece of flat ground sufficient for an aircarft to land. Sure enough, the aircraft turned around and there it was, the Queenstown Airport, neatly tucked away among the suburbs of Queenstown.

Shuttling into the city centre, we arrived at the Nomads Backpackers Lodge after about a 15 minute drive. Our room, an ensuite on the third floor and designed for a person in a wheel chair was larger than we expected and nicely appointed. Even though there are only two of us, it's nice to have enough room to swing a cat just in case one gets the compulsion and opportunity to do so. (I hate cats!)

Queenstown was a surprise. I had expected a lot of old buildings reminiscent of Sydney, but the place looks surprisingly modern and is attractively laid out with nice roads, parks and of course Lake Wakapitu nearby. The lake is very imposing ... huge and fresh water, although surprisingly the Queenstown Golf Course, where the 2014 Golf Open was being held, looked incredibly brownish ... they don't irrigate from the dam. Couldn't believe it, but according to the locals, it usually rains sufficiently not to have to irrigate, but of late, it's been a bit dry. Well, dry for a few weeks, which by NZ standards is a serious drought.

The goods and services tax rate in NZ is apparently 15% which probably partly accounts for the generally higher cost of living than in Australia. Beer and wine seemed expensive as did most other things. If nothing else the exchange rate between the AUD and the NZD was marginally in our favour, but nothing to get too excited about when compared with countries like Vietnam where we can live like kings for almost nothing Australian.

We walked about the city and visited the lookout after a gandola ride. Beautiful views of thel ake and nearby regions. Younger, more keen people bungy jump, fly and ride a luge, which isn't a luge in ice or snow, but a plastic tray with wheels and a steering handle which also acts as a brake. There are different gradients so that the beginners don't wipe themselves out on a hairpin bend.

At the airport a customs official saw "Place of birth: Queenstown" on my passport and said, "Oh, so you were born here?" I replied, "Regrettably no, my Queenstown is in Tasmania and nowhere as beautiful as yours."

Tomorrow is another day and we still have about four weeks to go.

Robin

Defeating Boredom in Retirement

Yesterday, I finally realised my problem ... I'm dying, not from old age or any identified disease, but from boredom. I guess it doesn't really matter what we die from, we were only ever promised three score years and ten and found out that it was a lie. People die at all ages.

Visit Vancouver and do some beer tasting

The key to dying is to have a "healthy death". That is, be rolling along in a healthy state and have a massive stroke or cardiac failure that ends one's life. Far better than lingering along with a dodgy ticker or getting more and more bored and eventually falling off one's perch.

Death is inconvenient because it comes when we least expect it and probably don't want it. I say probably don't want it because I'm sure I will get so disheartened with the state of the world and Australia that I'll be pleased that I'm only visiting. When I see my friends die and wish it had been me, I'll know it's time to get my stuff in order. So far, so good.

But, back to boredom. I tell my grandson that boredom is a state of mind, that there are no uninteresting subjects, just disinterested people. I don't know that I believe what I say, but I do try to practise it. Every morning when I arise from a usually disruptive, unfulfilling sleep, feeling like I've just reached the end of my day and need to go to bed, I decide that today will be a good day and I will be positive. Then I make the fatal mistake of switching on the news. Blah!

So, if you have the positive attitude, what do you do to alleviate the boredom?

First of all, you have to find out what are the reasons you are bored. That's not rocket science. There you were, arising early each morning, showering and shaving, getting dressed and heading off to work. If you were lucky you had a job that was interesting most of the time and provided at least a tad of self-esteem and status for you. You got paid a wad of money every so often, socialised with a variety of other people. There was perhaps even some eye candy you could look at and perhaps fantasize about (if only they weren't young enough to be your daughter). Most of all, you managed to fill in a substantial part of your day with the minutia of work.

When you retire, you have all day to do nothing. But you realise that the same things that kept you motivated while at work may work when retired. Okay, so you've gone from being the CEO of some impressive multinational company, or perhaps a cleaner at the local school. Either way, you are now nobody and the damn housework still needs to be done most days; vacuuming, mopping, dusting, washing dishes, washing clothes, hanging them out to dry. You still have to eat so someone has to buy food, prepare it, cook it and then clean up. Now, instead of having a team of underlings to get your coffee, send your faxes, put petrol in the company car, you're "it." And the worst bit is that you don't get paid. You are now attached by the hip to your superannuation account or if you are really unlucky, to a government pension that hardly provides enough for you to eat,let alone pay for holidays or a new car when your 1993 Toyota finally chucks it in.

By now, if you have made any spiritual progress in life, you've realised that there is no one who looks down from heaven and looks after you and the other seven billion people on the planet. You know you are on your own no matter how hard you wish it were otherwise. You also know that nature doesn't give a rat's bootlace what happens to you or anything or anybody else; she just goes on her own way creating and destroying universes and worlds as she has for eternity.

None of this helps you to find someone else to fix up your problem, you are all on your own. Survive or die from boredom.

The key is to keep busy ... fill in the empty hours with some type of activity. Anything you find interesting and can afford. Try to fill your calendar with so much stuff you haven't got time to think of being bored or dying from boredom.

Merlin the Magician, in the "Sword in the Stone" (TH White, 1938) said, "The best thing for being sad is to learn something. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder in your veins. The best thing for it then is to learn something."

Change "sad" for "bored" and you have a partial solution. Learn something.

With all the free time you have after you do your chores, you can enrol in that 10 week Asian cooking class. You can volunteer somewhere where your help is needed. Get yourself a friend who you can meet for coffee, card games, or anything else that appeals to both of you. Take up a new hobby ... something you had always wanted to do, but didn't because work got in the way. Play golf. Play tennis. Ride a bike. Take up beer tasting, collect watches or wine, do something.

Merlin was part right. Learning something new is part of the solution. The real solution however, is to keep yourself so busy you haven't got time to be bored. Retirement, if you are lucky, is a second chance at life. It's time to do all those things you haven't previously had the opportunity to do. Okay, so scuba diving or sky diving may be a bit difficult with your crook back, high blood-pressure and arthritic legs, but there is still many other options.

Instead of sitting around waiting to get sick and die, get out and make the best of the last years of your life. For all you know, it may be the only life you'll have.

Robin

While it Rains in Central Australia, Coastal Australia Swelters

As I write, it has been drizzling in Central Australia for several days on and off and it's raining heavier than a drizzle at present. It's very nice and has driven down the usual high temperatures we get at this time of year.

I have the front doors and rear door of our house open allowing a cool breeze to move through the house keeping it pleasantly cool ... no air-conditioning here thank you.

It's a very different story throughout most of coastal Australia where bush fires have devastated large areas of land and destroyed dozens of houses and live stock. A handful of people has died from heat exhaustion and the ambulance service tells us their paramedics have dealt with numbers of individuals whose hearts have literally stopped working ... cardiac arrests, through heat stress.

Today we are lucky to be in Central Australia. Last month we had our share of temperatures in the high 40s (Celsius), but we are accustomed to high temperatures and have houses with evaporative or split level airconditioning which is not always available in southern houses. We know how to live with heat.

The claim that climate change is a myth is a difficult one to support with the evidence. However, Australia is always hot in Summer and we have a long history of heat-induced bush fires. Some degree of climate change has been with us always so it's hard to gauge whether it's part of a natural cycle in nature or, as some say, caused by our presence and activities here on Mother Earth.

Cutting down trees, driving motor vehicles and running coal-fired electricity plants probably do contribute to climate, so it's a thin argument to claim that humankind doesn't contribute. But when I visited Rabaul in Papua New Guinea in April last year and saw the resident volcano puffing out millions of cubic metres of smoke, I realised that we aren't the only culprits.

As I enjoy the cool weather for as long as it lasts, I can't help but think that while climate change caused by global warming may be of long term detriment to us, there are other issues more likely to have a dramatic impact on life on earth than climate change. One that comes to mind is religious intolerance.

Hope you are enjoying your new year.

Robin

Christmas 2013 at The Alice

As the end of another year draws close, the temperature has increased in Central Australia with a hint of humidity and everyone is winding down for the Christmas festivities. Many families leave Alice Springs for seaside resorts or to the major cities to spend time with loved ones or simply to get away for a bit.

When you live in such a remote location, it's good to go somewhere else at least once per year. Somewhere where the sights are greener and there are more places to go. More choices for everything. If you are lucky, the place you visit will be a bit cooler although temperatures in some of the major Australian cities have been as hot as Central Australia this year. All part of the planet's cyclical climate change pattern.

We are staying at home this year. Our family isn't religious, so Christmas is more a time when we get together and celebrate our togetherness. We do exchange gifts, following the tradition of the three wise men whom legend has it provided baby Jesus with gifts. We'll take time out to eat some lovely food, including roasts, drink a bottle or two of beer or wine ... or maybe both ... and generally laze about. Perhaps we will discuss our plans for 2014 and beyond.

If you celebrate Christmas, we hope you have a safe, pleasant and relaxing festive season.

Robin
for the Henry family

Visiting Bublacowie Military Museum and Memorial

With such an unusual name and a location out of the way, we weren't sure what we'd find at the Bublacowie Military Museum and Memorial. It took a bit of finding, but with our iPhone maps app, we eventually arrived only to find that the museum was closed on Thursdays. Damn!

As we were driving off, a small, fluffy, white dog attacked our beautiful Toyota Landcruiser Prado and fearing I would convert it into a floor mat, I stopped. The dog's owner, Chris Soar who is the owner and curator of the museum, came to our aid. He managed to coax the dog out from under our car and after a short discussion he invited us to view the museum, which he opened specially for us. Fate has a way of helping out occasionally and his generosity was greatly appreciated as we don't plan to visit the Yorke Peninsula again.

We accepted Chris's offer and were pleasantly surprised and delighted with the absolutely massive collection of memorabilia, memorials and associated objects and implements of interest. Well worth the $10 per head entry fee.

Chris Soar is a living legend with whom I quickly established a rapport and deep respect. He had a lengthy military career in the Australian Army and served our nation in Korea, Malaya and Vietnam (two terms). He has also made a considerable contribution to the various communities on Yorke Peninsula and obviously spent a lot of his waking hours collecting memorabilia and setting up the museum and memorial.

The memorial has plaques for numerous veterans of all world wars whose local relatives have requested their ashes be interred at Bublacowie. Now that those of us who served during the Vietnam War era are aging, numbers of the memorials are those of Vietnam veterans, young people willing to give their lives for our freedom ... something which we should never forget, especially with the onslaught of Islamists amongst us who state in public their intention to take over our country and place us under the yoke of Islamic sharia.

Chris has done a great job of setting up memorabilia in campaign order and service order eg, there are sections for the Boer War, WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan and several of the peace keeping operations like Timor Leste.

We spent a couple of hours touring the exhibits, some of which brought back fond memories of my days in the Royal Australian Air Force and later in the Army Reserve. Disappointingly, there was little about 10 Squadron RAAF with which my father flew in the UK during WWII. The crews of 10 Squadron went to England to ferry back to Australia a number of new Sunderland (or Catalina?) flying boats, but war broke out and they were told to stay in England. My father spent two years flying around the Bay of Biscay, the British Channel etc finding and destroying German submarines that were creating havoc with shipping coming in and out of the British Isles. As Chris says, there is a flying boat museum memorial at Lake Boga in Victoria. (I've been there and it brought tears to my eyes to see a photo of my father before he had even met my mother).

If you are anywhere near Yorktown in South Australia and are interested in Australia's military history and more, you simply must visit Bublacowie Military Museum and Memorial. If you are really lucky, you will get a chance to meet Chris Soar, one of Australia's heroes.

Robin

PS: Bublacowie Military Museum and Memorial is open Sunday to Tuesday 10 am to 4 pm or by appointment.

Port Broughton, One of Many Ports on Yorke Peninsula

This leg of our trip we are driving from the top of the Yorke Peninsula down the west coast and up the east coast and then head to Adelaide, the capital of South Australia, before heading back to Central Australia. 

South Australia has two main peninsulas ie, Eyre Peninsula (the most western), which we have already travelled and Yorke Peninsula which we are travelling now. For those who aren't familiar with Australian geography (and those Australians who should be, but who nodded off during the South Australia segment of their geography classes), both peninsulas lie roughly north-south and are separated by the Spencer Gulf. At the northern-most tip is Port Augusta. Between Lucky Bay on the Eyre Peninsula and Wallaroo on the Yorke Peninsula there is a vehicular ferry, however, the price per linear metre is $30 and as our caravan and vehicle are almost 10 metres, we decided it would be cheaper to pay for fuel to drive the four hours north through Port Augusta and south again into the Yorke Peninsula. So we drove the four hours and reached Wallaroo around mid-afternoon.

Wallaroo is at the eastern side and slightly north of the St Vincent Gulf separating the Yorke Peninsula from Adelaide and much of the eastern parts of South Australia.

Our first few days we spent at Port Broughton (north of Wallaroo) which is where the photos in this post were taken from the jetty of the foreshore and main street with a lovely sunset thrown in for good measure. Unfortunately, even digital cameras as good as my Canon DSLR and my training in digital photography from the New York Institute of Photography (ahem) cannot show the true beauty of a sunset no matter where one manages to record it. It just never seems to be as glorious as the way nature presents it to our eyes.

Everywhere we have stayed has been windy with lots of bloody flies and the winds have been coolish. However, we've seen the sea and the lovely beaches and walked in the sand (too cold to swim!), something not possible at Alice Springs, so we feel refreshed in both respects: physically and psychologically. Sighting of literally dozens of shingle back lizards, emus and other animals has been enjoyable too, to know we haven't yet killed them all off.

After Port Broughton we stayed at Moonta Bay south of Wallaroo and then Port Rickaby and will probably stay at Marion or Stenhouse Bay near the Innes National Park at the southernmost tip of the peninsula in the coming week before heading across to Edithburgh and then heading north with one more stay until we head to Adelaide.

The Yorke Peninsula has a mining history and once had a strong Welsh influence among the many Welsh miners who immigrated here to make their fortune or to escape their lives in Wales. Today, much of the peninsula grows smallcrops: wheat, barley, lupins and other seeds and huge paddocks with crops can be seen everywhere as can the various types of cropping and agricultural machinery.

Unlike the Eyre Peninsula where many of the people we ran into were from Western Australia, most of our fellow grey nomads here seem to come from South Australia and live just a short distance from where they are visiting. None of this long haul stuff from the Northern Territory for them. It must be delightful to travel a few hundred kilometres and be somewhere totally different and nice.

On our first night at Port Rickaby, the caravan park manager put on a sausage sizzle a-la-carte with heaps of salad, noodles and lasagne all for a miserable $5 per head. Excellent value for money. The little amenities room where we ate was chock full of people so it turned into a great social event with everyone having a glass of wine, a beer or a soft drink and chatting about their caravanning experiences. It's the social aspect that makes caravanning so popular.

Until next time, cheers.

Robin

All in a Day at Coffin Bay!

We drove from Alice Springs for two days to get to Coffin Bay on the Eyre Peninsula in South Australia. We stayed overnight on day one at a roadside stop on Ingomar Station. Night two we stayed at the Kimba showgrounds where the council allows caravaners and RVers to stay for up to 24h, which is very considerate of them.

The first day at Coffin Bay we relaxed and regrouped in order to throw ourselves into the Coffin Bay National Park (CBNP) today, day two of three we have allocated to stay here before moving on to nearby Port Lincoln. We did go for a one hour walk around the bay along a walking track that also took us through the scrub and up to a lookout one km from Coffin Bay central. During the walk we run into a huge male emu with half a dozen chicks (the males look after the chicks)following it here and there. Not wanting to get too close and incur its wrath, we gave it a wide birth but took some photos.

Today we had a leisurely morning, packed a few items for lunch and departed for the CBNP It costs $4 per head to enter for concession card holders and $10 for younger adults. Kids are free. There's an honesty box for the money. You write your car registration number on a form attached to an envelope, stick your cash into the envelope and then lick the envelope flap to glue it shut. You place the envelope in a steel container and place a permit on your windscreen. They should pay us for spending the time ... I usually charge $48 per hour.

We visited several bays and beaches and looked from several lookouts (isn't that what you do?) staying at one for a while to have our lunch which we had brought with us.

While driving around we saw a pair of shingle back lizards (aka sleepy lizards because they are very, very slow). One of the pair was on the road service, so I stopped to take a photo. First it played dead with the hope I'd think it was just a stick or a dead leaf (yeah, that's right, a stick with four legs, a fat tail, a head that looks like a shingle back lizard's and two beady eyes). Then, realising how smart I was to identify it as a lizard, it curled itself into defence mode, opened it's mouth and hissed at me. Although I have a 100 kg weight advantage and stand much taller, it frightened me off, so I returned to the car and drove off making sure not to flatten it on the way.

Next, we saw another clutch of emus. Ho hum, they are as common as tourists here. I took a few shots and kept going, next stop the wharf at Coffin Bay. There we found all the things you would expect to find at a wharf, cars with trailers, most empty, some full; a boat ramp, a few boats and people.

Two women were filleting their catch and feeding pelicans with the remnants of the poor beings who will be lunch or dinner in the near future. We stopped by to have a look and one of the women asked Chris if she'd like to feed the pelicans, handing her the remnants of a filleted fish ... a head, tail and bones with hardly any meat. Not much use to you and me, but a wonderful treat if you are a pelican.

When Chris had finished feeding a few of our feathered friends, and after I'd taken enough photos of pelicans, we decided we had had such a hard day, we headed to the Oyster Bed Cafe for a cup of coffee.

We've booked a table for tomorrow night and plan to have dinner there at 7 pm ... oysters kirkpatrick, red wine and some other foods.
What a life eh?

Robin

The Great Central Australian Midwives Gourmet Sausage Sizzle

Wow! That's a title and a half, but it says it all: Chris Henry organised a gourmet sausage sizzle on behalf of some of her midwife colleagues from the Alice Springs Hospital last night.

Held in our backyard, we had a variety of sausages including, kangaroo, boerewors (South African), duck and pork, lamb, turkey, chorizo, and tangy pork and leek cooked by son Dale, undoubtedly the best sausage cook in the Northern Territory (seen in action at left).

Dale carefully placed the sausages on the barbecue grouped by type so we could track which was what and label it for our guests.

Robin carried the cooked sausages into the kitchen where Christina cut them into thirds, with the exception of the boerewors which was one very long sausage packed in a circle and looked like a short, thick snake. We placed them into dishes and put them on the table with signs indicating the sausage contents.

With a collection of salads, salad dressings, dukkah, and some mushroom sauce with cream, everyone took at least one piece of each of the sausages, grabbed a bread roll and returned to the table to test the gourmet sausages.

To my surprise, everyone thought they were great and several discussions ensured about sausages, the pros and cons and how the kangaroo sausages are the least damaging to health because kangaroo meat is fat free with no cholestorol. While the midwives discussed cholestorol, and plant sterols (whatever the hell they are), the men discussed climate change, golf, politics, and women.

At left are four of the eight men who attended. The first left is my golf buddy Darrell with whom I get together with most Sundays to walk, hit golf balls, swear moderately and discuss how well our golf is progressing, despite our final scores and evidence that the truth is not always told among golfers.

After I'd taken the photos, I noticed that each of the four had a drink in their right hand and their left hands were either in, or near their pockets.

Hands in one's pocket! Is this a man thing that happens on cue when a photo is taken or is it just another coincidence? We'll never know, but there is a safe bet that each of our friends is right handed.

Before everyone departed around 11:30 pm, I managed to get the shot at left of the midwives, although two are hard to see. The tallest lady, whose face is partially obscured, Dianne, is the manager of the Midwifery Department and the remainder are various specialists representing perhaps 500 years of combined nursing/midwifery experience ... the cream of the crop.

Daily, numerous mothers and neonates benefit from their invaluable knowledge and experience which they are also passing to the new generation of midwives who in time will take their places in what is a very important profession.

By the end of the evening, everyone had consumed a nice meal, the sausages being followed by sweets including trifle and fruit, a few drinks either alcoholic or non-alcoholic and they agreed that each month they should get together in a similar fashion with a different theme.

With Christmas on the horizon, there will be ample opportunity for celebration between now and the beginning of 2014.

Robin

Now that we are Grey Nomads ...

After a half century of working for the man (or woman as the case may be) and having purchased our Blue Sky Caravan and a Toyota Landcruiser Prado with which to pull it, we can now officially call ourselves "Grey Nomads".

Neither of us is completely grey yet, but I can no longer get away with telling daughter Meredith that I have my hairdresser put a bit of grey around my temples to make me look distinguished ... she sees through that fib immediately.

Unlike many men much younger than me, I still have most of my hair, although thinning on the front. Christina still has a lovely crop of hair, as is the case with most aging women, but I no longer tell her that if she dies first, I want a hair transplant. After all, it's getting grey too.

So, as we are officially part of the  Baby Boomer, Grey Nomad clan of Australians, you can imagine how delighted I was when a friend who considers to me to be an ex-officio father, gave me a bottle of Grey Nomad shiraz for Fathers' Day last Sunday.

I've not yet opened the wine to test the delights and will do that during our next caravan escape in mid-October when we travel to the Yorke Peninsula in South Australia. I already know the wine will be excellent. How? It's from one of Australia's premier wine growing regions, McLaren Vale in South Australia. With a heritage like that, it has to be a good quality wine.

The label on the obverse side of the bottle at left has a bit of a blurb about Grey Nomads (you may need to click to enlarge the photo). I don't know whether it is all true, but it sounds as though it could be ... spending our children's inheritance has been a priority for us for a while.

In October we head south to our neighbouring state and plan to spend some time at the beachside towns such as Coffin Bay. I'll take some photos with my beloved Canon EOS 450D and if you are really lucky will post some travel information covering the towns along the way.

Keep watching this space for more and in the mean time, stay well.

Robin

Tory Does Palm Valley

Recently we took a day trip to Palm Valley which is within the Finke Gorge National Park, an east-west running valley in the Krichauff Range 123 km southwest of Alice Springs in the Northern Territory, Australia.

It's a pleasant drive during the cooler months and requires a four wheel drive vehicle after one reaches the Aboriginal town called Hermannsburg, which was once a Lutheran mission township.

The Palm Valley palms are red cabbage palms found nowhere else in the Northern Territory. Although the region is now arid, the presence of palms reflects the time when Central Australia was tropical.

We've been to Palm Valley on several previous occasions and although it hadn't changed any since our previous visit, it's still good for the inner being to get out and be surrounded by the beauty and ruggedness of nature.

Christina and I took grandson Tory along for the trip and were accompanied by friends Robyn and Darrell Wallace.

Tory had a great time exploring the landscape here and there and running about like a ferret. We did quite a bit of walking and climbing before having a picnic lunch.

Apart from the walking we do among the hills surrounding our house, Tory hasn't done much "exploring" in the outback, so it appeared to be a good change from tennis, bike riding and football, to get some exercise climbing rocks and running along the dry Finke River bed.

We didn't see any lizards during our trip ... it's probably too cold for them at this time of year, but there were some lovely honeyeater birds, a few hawks and a variety of ants, butterflies, dragonflies, and various bugs with which to entertain ourselves.

When we travelled home, the sun was setting over the beautiful MacDonnell Range reminding us that both had been here for many millions of years and would be still here millenia after we are all gone.

By the time we had arrived back home at The Alice it was late afternoon. Tory sat in my chair (yes, MY chair), and within seconds fell asleep as can be seen in the strip photo at left.

He's such a handsome fellow, I have no idea where he gets it from.

Everyone had a great time. Our next trip will probably be to the old gold mining region of Arltunga which is north-east of Alice Springs.

Robin

Off in the Beautiful Sea Princess

All Aboard the Sea Princess

Well, here we are on the high seas, north of Australia and heading to Brunei. We've never been on such a large ship before, but many of those in this cruise are recidivists ... if that's an appropriate word. Or perhaps I should refer to them as frequent cruisers.

As the boat rolls from side to side slightly, one has to keep one's balance, but the surrounds are akin to a five star hotel, so it's no burden, although it occurred to me that it's a bit like being under the influence of that demon drink. The key difference is that you wobble when sober, not inebriated. And of course, when you are inebriated (so I'm told), you aren't aware that you are lurching from side to side. Essentially the challenge is the same; something out of your control is causing you to walk a bit funny and occasionally lurch left or right.

Before embarkation, my sister-in-law, Lyndie asked me what I'd do for 40 days. Having just spent a month in Vietnam looking at the many beautiful or at least attractive women there, I thought I could sit by the swimming pool on the ship, Oakey glasses firmly affixed and ogle at some of the bikini beauties. Alas, she informed me that most of the people would be my age and therefore showing advanced signs of wear and tear. Damn! She was spot on. But there are, thankfully, other things to do. And many of the largely Asian crew are worth a second look and chatting with. There are also many nice fellow travellers.

I've been doing some paid work while on board and that has helped fill in a little time. Then there's the Kindle ... plenty of books to read. I did attempt a gym session, but it was chockers and I'm an impatient exerciser who doesn't want to queue for machinery. Never mind, when I get back home it will be back to the three games of golf per week and some cycling.

Talking about Kindles and books; if you are a politician or have anything to do with helping run Australia (or any other Western country for that matter), you really need to obtain a copy of Dr Dambiso Moyo's, "How the West Was Lost". Perhaps also get up to speed on the progress of Islam in the West and elsewhere as it successfully implements both its murderous and passive jihads on freedom, democracy, human rights (especially those of women), and our cherished Western values.

Every morning a copy of "The Officer's Log" arrives with some sales blurbs and a program of activities which includes everything from tooth whitening sessions to movies. Last night we watched the latest Bond movie, Skyfall. There is plenty to do if you are interested in the topics being programmed. One session I have been following is about astronomy and the creation of planets etc which has an excellent, well informed lecturer and many topics of interest if you like space topics. I gave the sessions on "Religions of the East" and Zumba a wide berth.

The food on board is excellent with multiple places to eat. There is the Horizons Restaurant which has a wide variety of foods in a buffet or smorgasbord setting. It seems to be the most popular as you can wear almost anything there. There is a pizza lounge and a first class restaurant where you are expected to wear "smart casual" to dine. All options have a good range of choices and food equal to any other quality restaurant.

So far, the water has been as flat as a billiard table and we have simply cruised along past this or that island wending our way to our destinations.

It's a tough life, but 1,900 of us are doing it on the Sea Princess. Throughout the globe, there are probably tens of thousands floating their way across this or that ocean.

Robin

Our Wedding of the Year

On Christina and my 40th anniversary (17FEB13), son Dale married Ean (Yen Ngoc Than) at Lagi in Vietnam.

It was a spectacular occasion with several short formal elements where grandparents and other senior family members grant approval for the union to take place. The remainder was like something out of a celebrity event with fireworks and all.

Three hundred relatives from Ean's family turned up for the feast at midday and there was much frivolity and laughter as those who had not seen each other for a year or two whooped it up. A table of young people was rather loud and got louder as the intake of the dreaded drink beer took hold. But not to worry, the music from the karaoke type machine was so loud, my teeth shook and Dale, being hearing impaired had no chance of hearing anything but the music.

The session lasted until about 2:30 pm and almost immediately after the last course of food (fruit) arrived, the   guests began leaving slowly like crabs on a beach. As we were to find out, another marriage was planned and a reception starting in a hour. The workers at the venue had a tonne of beer cans and other stuff to clean up in a hurry before re-setting the tables.

By the time we departed from the venue, all I wanted to do was to crash for an hour or so. I had been "forced" to engage in a couple of "YO!" sessions and even though the beer has ice in it, it was beginning to take its toll. A Yo session is where you are challenged to drink a full glass of beer in contest with another. I had last done that when I was in my twenties ... now that I'm a responsible drinker, I'm out of touch with these rites of passage.

A good day was had by all and it was a joyous opportunity for families to get together. As you can see, Dale looked like a celebrity as did Ean in her traditional dress. Both had a couple of changes of clothes. Dale went to a white suit and Ean to a lovely royal blue dress.

Obviously we wish them every happiness and hope they live long, prosper and look after us when we get old and difficult.

Robin

My Remarkable Interaction with 6 Year Old Hung

Last night my new daughter-in-law asked me, my son and wife to attend one of her relatives places for a chat. We had already had dinner at Uncle Ing's place, where I learned why many of us in Australia are fat and obese and few Vietnamese are not. But that's a story for another day.

I had the most fascinating experience with a six year old girl called Hung. She looked as cute as ever in her school uniform, her long, jet black hair, smooth brown skin and brown eyes. She approached me and, probably never having seen an aging Australian with different eye shape, skin colour etc, addressed me in Vietnamese. I said hello to her in Vietnamese, one of a growing handful of words I know and then spoke a few words in English. She suddenly began speaking to me in English that was comprehensible, but slightly out of tone. She began counting to me and as I watched her searching for the next number, she reached 20 before she decided that was enough.

I told her she was very good at counting in English. We sat down and I began to point to parts of her body and say the English word. She responded, "nose", "eyes", "chin", "fingers" in her cute little voice and when the intonation was incorrect, I would tell her, "no, it's n-o-s-e" and as quick as a flash she would repeat it. Several times she had successive attempts, but eventually got it as close to 100 percent as anyone could expect from a six year old.

What I found quite remarkable is that she remembered every word we had spoken and got the correct intonation in several repeat sessions. Then she decided to teach me Vietnamese. She would say a word and then open her hands out in front of me to say, "well, say the word". If I got it incorrect as I did many, she would gesticulate in the way Vietnamese do to say "khong" ... "no" and redisplay her tiny hands to suggest I repeat the sound.

I couldn't believe it. There I was, a 65 year old man being taught Vietnamese by a six year old girl. And she was doing a great job of it. We had about a 3/4 h session, but I'm sad to say I'm not as efficient a learner as Hung.

It was an amazing experience and suggests to me that this young lady is brilliant. Truly an example of what is known in education as the "blank slate", the slate that has plenty of room for learning and absorbs everything quickly.

If I was staying here for an extended period, I'd ask her parents if I could have a few one hour sessions with her each week from which we could both benefit. I enjoyed our interaction very much despite our vast age difference and the absence of a considerable language barrier.

Robin

Finding Paradise in Lagi, Vietnam

Our trip from Ho Chi Minh City to Lagi, 200 km away took about four hours in a "bus" which was really a large taxi. Five of our extended-family-to-be met us at the airport, so they and we three had to cram into the bus with all our baggage. I had my feet up on the engine cowling and Christina was twisted a bit like a pretzel, however, after a slightly uncomfortable journey we made it to the Mai Long Hotel at Lagi where I sit now as I write.

As hotels go, it's very nice and it's also very cheap at about $12 AUD per night. Everything is inexpensive here by Australian standards which makes one realise how taxed and profit conscious we are. One thing that really impresses me is that wifi in the hotel is free and lightning speed, not like the service provided in our so-called "first world country" by Telstra/Bigpond.

The local currency, with the unfortunate title of "Dong" is in the thousands and you feel like you are being over-charged for everything until you work out the comparative cost. Twenty thousand Dong for two cups of Vietnamese style iced coffee is about $1 AUD. Take off the last four zeros and divide by two for an approximation.

A can of 330 ml beer is worth around $0.50 cents ... very easy to become a drunkard here.

Our new inlaws, Nup (mother of Ean, who is marrying son Dale) and Vian (father) run a fish wholesaling business and seem like a very lovely family. They are surrounded by what seems like a cornucopia of brothers, uncles,  grandparents, fathers and so on. The great point of note here is that everyone looks after everyone else in the family. The older family members are supported financially by their offspring ... no Centrelink Office here.

The people are friendly and manage to keep themselves reasonably well groomed and clothed with the odd exception. Everyone and everything here seems to busy with motor cycles coming and going day and night.

Our hosts have had us running from place to place meeting Uncle Ing, grandmother something or other, attending dinner here and breakfast there. We even found Paradise as you can see in the two photos above. And I thought paradise was only an imaginary place where the good, dead finished up. Not true!

There are no credit card facilities here which has been a pain, but we have managed to use ATMs to keep ourselves loaded up with Dong.

At present we are in the middle of the Chinese New Year so celebrations are ongoing, but shops are still open selling coffee and food, hardware and other things. The next week promises to be an interesting and demanding one for all of us. I'll keep you posted.

Robin

PS: Our new daughter in law is a lovely, intelligent lady who will be a welcome addition to our family and despite the cultural and language challenges, a great partner for our son

It's Different but Similar in Vietnam

After an uninteresting and ordinary flight from Singapore, we arrived safely (always a bonus) at Tan Son Nhut Airport around 6:30 pm. While the standard of the airport surprised us, the two and a half hour wait to get our pre-booked visas process didn't. Been there, done that in several other countries.

After standing in queue for so long, it reminded me why one has to be at least reasonably fit to travel. It's not just carrying the bags that is the issue. For some, standing without anything to drink for a couple of hours can be daunting. Fortunately, I'm reasonably healthy and a placid person and not usually prone to impatience, having learnt early in life that being impatient doesn't help to make things happen any sooner. I do admit though, that I was pleased to get my visa and get out of the airport.

Friends including our daughter-in-law to be were waiting patiently for us and as we were incommunicado, must have wondered whether we had in fact arrived. All's well that ends well however.

We spent our first night at Saigon where, in the course of finding a place to have a beer, son Dale and I had an interesting interlude with a couple of "bar" girls. One sat close on my left, threw her leg over mine and rubbed my thigh. Even after only one beer, I thought she was stunning ... we drank our beer quickly and scurried off with tails between our legs. Maybe we should have stayed to see where the journey led, but we had a fair premonition and decided cowardice was the best form of survival, my son being about to marry and me with a wife of almost 40 years with whom I'd like to spend the rest of my days. I still have a vague recollection of having said, "until death do us part", with no mention of sudden death!

The city was as expected, similar to other Asian countries we have visited and also had some similarity to the Arabic countries with the sole exception of course that most of the people are Asian (what a surprise). There is a flower festival under way at present and we spent about an hour wandering among the many beautiful varieties of flowers. Unfortunately, I had left my camera in the hotel so missed many golden photo opportunities which I regret.

After doing some necessary business with the Australian Consulate-General's Office at Saigon, which was almost as painful as the visa issuing process at the airport, we walked about the streets and markets and managed to find a restaurant for dinner. We had an early night for in the morning we were off to Lagi which is where we are now.

Everywhere in Vietnam is a reminder of how resilient and motivated the Asian people are, having a penchant to turn anything into a way to make a Dong or survive for another few days. The motor scooters and motorcycles are ubiquitous; the thought passed my mind that there must be a huge trade in sins of the flesh, motor bike sales and repairs. Everything else must surely be subordinate.

Thanks to our Vietnamese friend Phuong, adapting to the local routine is much easier.

Robin

Heading for Vietnam

It's taken a while, but in early March I'm heading to Vietnam (see previous post). I tried several times to get there during the Vietnam War period, but the Air Force obviously considered I was needed more in Australia, so I never got posted and consequently missed out on a Defence Housing Loan and some other benefits only available for "veterans".

I spent my war supervising the loading and unloading of C130E Hercules aircraft flying to and from Vung Tau, Vietnam, a long way from the front line.

Oh well, it's probably safer to visit now 40 years later.

My wife Christina and I are heading to Vietnam to hopefully marry our son Dale to Yen (pronounced Ian). So, not only will we get to visit the country for a month, but we will see our only son get married ... at long last. Having a daughter-in-law will be nice too, especially one who brings a different cultural viewpoint into our family.

After we return from Vietnam we are heading off on a 40 day (yes, you read it correctly) cruise from Sydney across to Japan via Airlie Beach and Darwin in Australia, Brunei, Hong Kong, China and then return via Guam. It promises to be a wonderful experience too, but I'll write more about it as it happens during the long days watching the ocean pass by.

Robin