Go Your Own Way (Sydney, NSW to Perth, WA, part 1)

Hello again dear reader. Did you miss me? It's been a while since our NZ sojourn and although we have been out and about there wasn't really anything to blog about. You know me, wineries, restaurants, the usual stuff. Until now. The end of the financial year forced me from my cocoon of warmth in the inner city and deposited me in Perth, Western Australia. Curiously, WA is experiencing some unseasonal weather at the moment. If there is such a thing as unseasonal weather in the current age. What was it Tony Abbott said about climate change? Fool.

It started like this:

This trip (I've decided the word holiday is to be expunged from my vocabulary), is the last of the planned, pre-covid expeditions. Initially the idea was to fly in and out of Perth and drive the length of the Coral Coast to Exmouth and back exploring on the way. The ultimate aim was to swim with the whale sharks on  Ningaloo Reef. Bucket list. As well as soak up the beauty of the coast and surrounding country.

Remote is such a clichéd word, but is the only way to describe this part of Australia. Not Perth, further north. There are vast distances between towns and the original plan was to take about 4 weeks and see as much as possible. As always, there is a substantial amount of guesswork involved, given we haven't passed this way before and Google, while helpful, has its limitations. It was all mapped with a luxurious stay at Sal Salis (seriously, check this place out, amazing) planned at the end point culminating in the whale shark experience before a slow meander back to Perth. Then Covid arrived and Sal Salis was off the menu. This time.

On the other side of the pandemic, we finally did the APT European river cruise and were keen to see what they had to offer at home. That was how we came across the Broome to Darwin via the Kimberley tour. It would allow us to experience things we didn't see on our Kimberley expedition cruise a few years back, as well as getting into Kakadu and Litchfield National Parks. This is as close to wilderness as Jayne is likely to experience.

The trip morphed into Perth to Broome and then Broome to Darwin. The first part organised by me, the second leg by APT. It created some logistical problems, more on that later, and also locked in the date we needed to be in Broome which dominoed all the way down the Coral Coast to Perth and back to Sydney. In a tragic turn of events, it meant we were travelling in school holidays, something we vowed never to do again. On the plus side, we get chauffeured to and from the airport for being repeat APT customers.

The school holiday effect, which needs a name, was unknown until recently. While all the accommodation was booked 12 months ago, the day-to-day experiences were left until this week. Consequently, there will be no snorkelling with the whale sharks. Every tour operator in Exmouth or Coral Bay is completely booked. As they say in the classics, not happy Jan. Unless we jag a cancellation we will be back, maybe next year. Definitely not in school holidays. 

Some websites have even suggested we need to pre-book restaurants. Despite being incredibly well organised that is just a bridge too far, so we may return several kilos lighter.

Packing problems

Packing. The word sends chills down my spine. We always overpack. Even knowing this doesn't help and I'm sure I've overpacked again. Normally this is not a problem and is rationalised by the unknown - weather and experiences. Not this time. We have a luggage limit for the Broome to Darwin trip. Further, we can take soft bags only. No suit cases due to the all terrain vehicle in which we will be travelling.

What does this mean you ask, my inquisitive reader? Well, we are flying Qantas. They have destroyed two of my suitcases on recent flights so I don't trust them to take care of soft bags. Aside from that, we are snorkelling and swimming at various points on the Coral Coast. It has some of the best and most pristine reefs in the world (see Tim Winton's documentary Ningaloo). Our fins only fit into the largest of suitcases.

The remedy? I packed most of my gear into my RM Williams bag which will be carry on and Jayne's duffle bag, her gear, beach towels, snorkel equipment and the rest is in the large suitcase. When we arrive in Broome, we will repack to meet requirements and stash all unnecessary things back into the suitcase for it to be transported to Darwin. Simple. Well, not really, but as the French say, 'il semble travailler' (it seems to work).

That was then. As I sit and survey the luggage strewn floor, I have decided to re-pack the suitcase. 

Happy with that.

Qantas

Ah yes, Qantas. I've mentioned the destruction of my luggage. There have been other issues but I don't wish to bore you dear reader. However, at 10:26pm on the night before we were scheduled to fly, they cancelled our flight. By text. I was awake watching the cricket in England but my phone had sensibly gone to sleep so I didn't see the message. Until this morning.

Actually the first message on the screen was from 12:26am to inform me that our flight had been re-routed to Melbourne. That certainly got the blood pumping. Melbourne? WTF? We are now flying at 3:30pm to Melbourne and then on to Perth arriving at 9:05pm. Do you believe that will happen? I don't. There are now reports that only one runway is operating in Sydney, due to high winds. And it is school holidays. Happy days.

The good news, if there can be any, is that the we have kept our Business Class seats on both legs of the flight. Although we have been relegated from the comfort of the A330 to the stock standard 737. I know, I know, first world problems.

The Flights and Perth

I think that's enough for one day. We arrived. Tired. I'll save the rest of the day for tomorrow. After all it is Perth, how much can there be to do?

Connectivity

The other significant impact on this trip is connectivity (or lack thereof) although there are no issues tonight. I have no idea how often I will have a network strong enough to post a blog with photographs. Therefore, posts will be sporadic and could well be out of sync and posted once we are back home in Sydney. Fear not, the blog will continue, just not in real time.

As will the song titles to head up each post. Today's title is from that classic 1977 Fleetwood Mac album, Rumours. Have a listen. We will be going our own way until we arrive in Broome.

Until next time.

The Real (Eel) Thing (Moso Island, Vanuatu)

Well hello, dear reader, and welcome to the 350th posting of this blog! A momentous day because it's also my birthday. That's a lot of travel and there is still so much more to come. 2023 is set to be another big travel year, provided the 27th version of COVID doesn't spoil the party.

Where to begin today? How about the title? Way back in 2012, Jayne came up with a pun title after our visit to the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, The Moher I See You. It's only 10 years in the past, dear reader, but she hasn't let it go yet. So when I suggested we call today's post Eel Meet Again she sneered with disdain.  Hours later she came up The Eel Thing and has been sniggering away at her own genius ever since. Anyway, The Real Thing by Australia's own Russell Morris in 1969 is still a classic rock song and has well and truly stood the test of time. In due course, you will understand the reference.

The day began with the usual soporific sounds of waves lapping the beach. The view out the doors presented blue sky with some cloud and in no way threatened our plans. 

Tough view to start the day

Breakfast was more pleasant because of the change in weather and the coffee machine was cooperating. Back to the villa to apply sunscreen (yuck) and pull on our reef shoes to walk along the beach down to the south-west point. The term 'beach' here is a generous term. At high tide there is, in fact, no beach because the water comes right to the edge of land. The beach is a strip of sand and smashed coral that exists only when the tide is less than high. So 'beach' walks must be taken when they can. Climate change and rising sea levels are serious and not the stuff of pathetic Peter Dutton jokes.

A friend on the way to the beach.

The tide wasn't quite low enough to make the point because there are tree overhangs and narrower strips where we would have been forced into the water to progress further. Turning back, we went to prepare for our secluded beach picnic.

The esky, chilly bin or cooler, as they are called here, was packed with our lunch, dessert and a bottle of rosé. We had been sunscreened to the hilt and carried our towels and snorkel gear. Jayne carried her fear of getting into a boat and so it came pass, as she was trying to maintain her poise and balance and step into the dinghy, it moved away just as Jayne attempted to test the water between the jetty and the dinghy. Sigh. It was ever thus. Finally safely on board, we travelled across the harbour to a 'secluded' beach on Moso Island.

Our secluded picnic spot.

The beach on this side of Moso is like the beach here at the resort, subject to change due to tide. It is a narrow strip of sand that is fringed by tropical vegetation and disappears completely at high tide. As for secluded, well, anyone thinking they might be enjoying a romantic interlude in the sun and warm, shallow water for their birthday would be sadly disappointed. Our section of beach was secluded. The couple sheltering beyond the next overhang of vegetation also enjoyed 'seclusion'. As did the couple in the other direction. Still it was certainly not crowded.

OK, don't quote me, but, Ambae Island volcano (I think).

Lunch could wait -snorkelling first while the sun was still shining. While the coral was less frequent than on Efate, the fish life was far more diverse. Pockets of coral contained all manner of life. If you're still searching for Nemo, stop - we found him and his extended family. There were clams of all sizes and colours. I don't have the colour palette to describe them or the colourful fish or starfish. And then, floating over one massive coral head, out comes a moray eel (and that is the obvious link to the title). It was huge. It put its head out about 30 cm and just floated there, half in half out, daring me to come closer. No thank you. After I made sure Jayne had seen it, I was off to check out more harmless fish. Not long later, we came across an enormous white-spotted puffer fish. He was undeterred and stayed in place just eyeing us from the sea floor.

Moso Island.

At some stage during our drift up and down the beach, a dinghy appeared with yet another couple in search of a secluded beach. The crew circled us a couple of times while we were snorkelling, dragging a fishing line. While our boat was a drop-off service, their boat and crew stayed with them and went snorkelling themselves. Nice work if you can get it. 

After almost an hour in the water it was time to move back onto land to enjoy our picnic lunch. A prawn salad wrap, beef banh mi, fruit salad and berry muffin. And the rosé of course. The boat was scheduled to pick us up at 2pm. While trying to board this time, the devious boat shifted toward Jayne, trapped her foot and tried to drag herself underneath. She ended up back in the water. Finally we were seated on board and headed back to the resort to snorkel the point off the restaurant beach where a turtle had been spotted yesterday. No luck today. Time for the plunge pool and to wash off the sunscreen.

Dinner was the usual excellent offering. Rather than me providing a woefully inadequate truncated version of what was on offer I remembered to photograph the menu. Tonight the wine was Moët of course, although it almost didn't make the table. There is a very small height adjustment between where we were seated and the next part of the restaurant. After parading the bottle to Jayne, Marco stepped back and slipped and the ice bucket went flying. Fortunately the Moët and Marco were fine.

Apologies for the poor camera work.

Toward the end of dinner, as Winnie was pouring the last of the bubbles, I was clearing some birthday messages and said the 'b' word out loud. Winnie's ears pricked up, "Is it your birthday?" Ssshhhh, Winnie, it's a secret. "But, we have to sing to you." No, Winnie, ssshhh. She left the table clearly conflicted. I was uncertain she could keep the secret. It was time to go, lest I be subjected to the staff being forced to sing happy birthday.

Post dinner it was plunge pool time. Although the clouds and rain haven't exactly been welcome they have certainly reined in the temperature. So today, sunny and cloudless, was as hot and humid as it has been since we arrived.

Until next time.

I'm Back (Sydney - Dubai - Budapest)

Well hello dear reader, yes I'm back. Not quite Slim Shady style. Much more subdued and far less violent. Although today's title is attributed to the enduring Eminem, circa the year 2000. Ah, what a year. Not a pandemic in sight. I apologise for the lack of photos to break up the text, I shall do better in future posts.

Sydney

Currently I'm still in Sydney, trying to pack and being distracted by commencing this post. It is, uncharacteristically, a gorgeous winter's day. The sort of weather we used to experience before consecutive El Nina events and the ever increasing impact of climate change. Of course, for the conservative voters amongst you, climate change is just an exaggeration and work to reduce its impact is an impediment to growing a bank balance that you'll never live to spend. Sigh.

I digress. This trip is the twice postponed European river cruise. Cheers Covid. Third time lucky. It would appear, with a little over 24 hours to go, that this time we "might just make it after all." My apology, I came over all Mary Tyler Moore Show theme, perhaps a less threatening choice than Eminem. Anyway, originally this was to celebrate a special birthday for Jayne. Missed that boat, eh? See what I did there? I know, but I'm a tad rusty after being stuck at home for so long.

This time last year we were in a government imposed lockdown. This year the lockdown has been self-imposed as we try to stay covid free. We are still masking up when we go out, unlike the majority of people. We have also received our second booster, so there is little else we can do to ensure this trip happens. Masks are compulsory on the flight. I can deal with that for a few hours, but for 22 hours? It will be a challenge.

Our bags are packed and we are counting down the time for our car to the airport. Surprisingly I just received an email from APT. Hmmm. It won't be good news will it? So, the nice European summer, read drought, (did I mention climate change?) means river levels are very low and at one point we need to transit to a different ship - one assumes on the other side of the dry bit of river. There goes the benefit of not having to pack and unpack. Further, we might not be able to make our final destination, Amsterdam, on the water. In a 'kiss and make up' moment, should the latter occur, we get a 50% discount on an APT Mekong River cruise in 2023. Ok then. I think I can cope with that. I wonder where all the rain is that should be falling on Europe. Checking the weather radar... oh, yeah, right. I can see where it is.

Sydney International

Through the magic of time dislocation we have now progressed to the Qantas First Class Lounge. It is, of course, fabulous. As travel tradition demands, we commenced the evening with champagne, followed by salt and pepper calamari. To this we added a nice 2018 cabernet sauvignon along with cumin lamb with noodles for me while Jayne had slow cooked beef brisket.  Another glass of red was followed by a deconstructed pavlova and Jayne had a tart of some description. The meal and wine went some way to alleviating the stress that going through security always seems to generate. The priority lane is all well and good but the advantage dissipates by the time we all reach the dreaded x-ray machine.

Of course the body scanner rejected me. Now don't be harsh my dear reader, no shaming please. It rejected my boots. The R.M.Williams boots I regularly wear on flights. They have been to many destinations around the world and have passed through all manner of technological machinery. Not today. The attendant pointed to the image and the coloured area at my right ankle. "It's your boots. You'll need to take them off". I responded that these boots had passed through many machines but no, back out, boots off, through again. This time the machine rejected my left bootless ankle and my cleverly hidden handkerchief. Dangerous items, hankies. At least this time he was amused, no boots, same problem, "The machine heard you talking about it," he quipped. After a quick pat down, I was safely on the other side.

Emirates fly from Gate 61 which is almost in the next suburb. We strolled down through the closed shops and renovations, it's still not a pretty picture but looking better than it was. Straight on to the plane, gear stowed, blanket and pillow sorted, champagne in hand - it was all becoming real. When the second champagne was served, it was obvious we had a departure problem. A sick passenger was about to be disembarked which meant their luggage required disgorging from the bowels of the A380. And then all carry on had to be checked. Anyway, we left an hour late and arrived in Dubai and hour behind schedule. We have a four hour layover so it isn't really a problem for us. What's a few hours in the Lounge? We were fortunate, but there were many other people who were rushing to make their connections.

Dubai

The flight was a bit bumpy but uneventful. We had issues with Jayne's headphones which will require a trip to JB HiFi when we return to Australia. The food and wine were very good. Jayne even slept, for the first time, ever, and quietly admitted that Business Class really was the way to travel. Winner. It's taken me years to wring that endorsement from her.

We went through security again. Shoes off, watch off, bracelet off. Computer? Nope, it was allowed to stay in the bag. Off to the Business lounge where we were denied entry. Over to one of the friendly attendants, who looks at my boarding pass and says, "Wouldn't you rather be in the First Class Lounge"? and pointed in the opposite direction, away from the milling crowd. Well, now that you mention it, yes, yes I would.

Looking down on those less fortunate

Magically, pastries appeared

And here we sit, following second breakfast, charging phones and computers while gearing up for the 5 hour flight to Budapest. Australia is such a long way from other parts of the world and a full day in a plane, even Business Class, is not my idea of fun. That said, there is little choice until matter transporters become the preferred mode of travel.

Budapest

Another uneventful flight and one that was quite sparsely populated. We did the usual things, admired the roses, drank champagne, ate food and slipped in and out of consciousness while watching movies. Or  more precisely, staring at the screen. Even as I sit typing this in our hotel room, I am experiencing 'flight movement'. The bed should be extra fun tonight.

Fresh flowers on the plane - never seen that before

It's always a treat to arrive at an overseas destination and walk into the arrival hall to see a dark-jacketed man holding a board with your name on it. Especially when you are totally new to the country, don't speak the language and know absolutely nothing about where you are.

They love their religious statues. A little bit too much.

This post is long enough without any further musings about Budapest. There is much to say but I feel this will be drawn out over the next 5 days or so. I'm tired. You're tired. And I still haven't loaded a few photos to break up the text. I'm on it.

Until tomorrow.

Paradise Lost - Fiji, Malolo Island, Musket Cove

Welcome to out last day in Fiji, dear reader. We have been checking the weather at home intermittently and have been unsurprised to see little change. Sydney has now become the rainy city and the forecast for arrival tonight is 90% chance of rain. Fortunately, I purchased weatherproof luggage while I was travelling with work (seems like a lifetime ago) so our belongings shall at least arrive home dry.

The arrival of our new ferry transfer time last evening put a dampener on things and overshadowed a glorious morning and our breakfast. We do have a new breakfast sport: bulbul watching. On the quieter mornings, the bulbuls fly in and perch on the top of the pillars, just below the roof line. When the coast is clear, they swoop in and grab some breakfast too. It’s not just for humans. One morning, granola was the target. The next day, there was no granola on offer and he opted for the sunflower kernels. Today, after a long wait on the pillar top, he opted for the closest of the foods, bircher muesli. Down he swooped, up high on his legs, surveyed the bowls, hopped up onto the muesli bowl and tucked in. The guests always seem amused. Not so the staff.

Island Bar - wide angle

We chatted with another couple at breakfast, also from Sydney, lamenting the abysmal weather at home. Also we quickly learnt they are Bunnies supporters and she grew up near Redfern and now works there. Small world. This once again adds weight to Jayne’s hypothesis that, if you are visibly a Bunnies supporter, you will never be alone – someone always wants to talk about the players, the latest game, the points table, the upcoming game, Latrell’s hamstring…

We were just delaying the inevitable and finally dragged ourselves down to reception to discuss the ferry back to the mainland. You want to catch the later ferry, of course, no problem. Late check out, of course. How about 2pm? While this was all welcome news, some things have already been set on an irreversible course. I didn’t swim laps this morning because of the tight time frame for getting out of the buré. Jayne opted to shower before breakfast because we wouldn’t be swimming in the lagoon, again because of the time frame. Now, we have an extra 4 hours to relax and enjoy the vista and complete the immigration information on the Australian government Digital Passenger Declaration (DPD) app.

Every review I read about Musket Cove rated it 5 stars. Except one, and she rated it 1 star because she was goading them into answering her email enquiry – she hadn’t even been here yet. There are many aspects of the resort that are excellent and worthy of 5 stars. The natural environment is an absolute winner and the sunsets here are better than Cable Beach, better than Santorini, better than anywhere I can recall (except maybe Redfern). I have posted at least one sunset with every post. 

The people, absolutely everyone, are friendly and helpful and lovely. The beach front accommodation, OK I could nit-pick, but sitting on the verandah looking across the lagoon; I could do that every day forever and not tire of it. Activities? There were activities enough if that’s what you wanted, or not, if that was your expectation. It’s not a party island and doesn’t pretend to be.

First world problems

On the not-so-5-star side is a lack of eye for detail, the maintenance of facilities and communication. We have already mentioned that it would be very helpful to advertise the dinner menu each day so people can decide if they want to have lunch as the main meal (unless you are one of those people who wants 3 main meals a day and then advanced warning is irrelevant). 

Then there is the wine list. That is pretty much what it was, a list. Much of it was out of stock for half of our visit. The list itself was not something to excite any wine lover. Three or four NZ sav blancs from the old school, high acid with in-your-face herbaceous fruit. They were interesting in the ‘80s but the world has moved on. There was a chardonnay, recognisable by the label, not the taste and a pinot gris that was out of stock for the first four days. As mentioned, the red wine list suffered a similar fate in terms of availability, but then, it's not really a red wine climate. Unless you like drinking blood. Of the three rosés there was only one available and it was too sweet to become a mainstay for us.

As with many ‘all meals included’ resorts, the cream of the profit is skimmed from alcohol purchases. Price-wise, even in Fiji dollars, they weren’t bottle shop prices, not outrageous, but not cheap. One couple asked if we’d won lotto because we’d ordered a bottle of wine with dinner. While we did have a bottle of wine with our meal each night, there were occasions where we could have ordered another bottle to sip slowly on our verandah as the night came down but this was not on offer. Given the number of guests they can accommodate and the passing yachties, stopping in for a feed and a drink, they have missed a significant opportunity to improve their bottom line.

As to facilities, well the lovely sun lounges out the front of the buré are homemade and not quite as solid as they should be. Should one attempt to sit on them, the fabric comes away from the side revealing several very long sharp screws. Each day someone comes along and re-screws them, for them to come loose again as soon as anyone should sit on the lounge. It may provide work, but it is neither safe nor sensible. It is a design fault that should be rectified.

The offending sun lounges

Then there is the air conditioning. It is essential to have it on at night. Ours works effectively enough, but it drips condensation onto the beautiful polished timber floor. There it pools and seeps through one particular board which is slowly rotting through. This is not obvious at first glance and at some point, someone, guest or staff, or is going to put a foot through the floor. My short-term solution was to position the bath mat underneath the drip each night to soak up the water.

The timber floors behind the lamp are a bit soggy.

It has also become apparent that it depends to whom you speak, as to the level of information you obtain about arrangements and activities. An example of this is the Cloud Nine offer we had as part of our stay package – our first inquiry led us to believe this was a snorkelling opportunity, off a platform in the middle of the ocean. We were interested in this, until we then found out, by chance, from the water activities guy, with whom we were about to book a Cloud Nine time, that we needed to “Take your card.” Why, we asked? Because it is actually a floating pizza and cocktail bar - you can jump in the water if you like, but that is not the main game. Our package included the return boat trip out there, but not what we might consume while marooned there, presumably with a lot of music and people outside our demographic. Not sure how it would have been received if we had arrived at the platform and jumped into the water for the entirety of our time there, without using “the card”.

Cloud 9 or hell on water?

Up to this point, the post has actually been written on our verandah. Bags almost packed, but now with time to enjoy … Once again, the bird song and lapping of the waves is interrupted, read shattered or destroyed, by what sounds like a leaf blower. We all know it is ‘smoking man’, not the one from the X Files, but the guy here who sprays the undergrowth with chemicals every day. It doesn’t smell organic or natural. He sprays every day and wanders around in a cloud of insecticide, wearing little more than a disposable surgical mask for protection. Very safe for him and the guests. Just a question - is Dieldrin banned in Fiji?

I know this is all being very picky, but this hasn’t been the cheap Fiji holiday I read about in the media. And none of it was a deal breaker. It was, as pointed out since we arrived, the little things that matter – and they shouldn’t, because they shouldn’t be noticed. It’s in the not noticing that makes a 5 star establishment.

Paradise Lost

And before I sign off dear reader I’m sure you are speculating on the title. Is there a song called Paradise Lost? I was actually referring to Milton’s epic poem Paradise Lost because it is relevant here in so many ways. Not in the religious sense. In a snarky moment, it can refer to the things that the Resort didn’t get quite right. In a broader sense it is about what human kind has done in the destruction of natural habitat and our inability to recognise or attempt to repair it. Then of course there is the historic “white man’s burden” destructive invasion of the islands in the name of their Christian god. Let’s move on, this could spawn a novel, not a blog post.

The Department of Home Affairs

Just when I thought we’d finished writing for this trip, we experienced something incredible. Something amazing. Something unbelievable. A Federal Government app that worked easily and smoothly, the way it should have. Yeah nah. The DPD app – it’s free because nobody would pay for it. However, it is currently essential to complete it before Australians can return to Australia. And who would take returning to Australia as a given, under the current (now former - ed.) government, even if you are Australian and a resident? Remember when they locked the borders to everyone at the start of COVID?

Mr Potato Head’s department has excelled this time in that it works better than any other government app I’ve attempted to use. They also win because if you don’t use their app, you can’t come home – sort of like buying into big tech. 45 minutes later … we had completed the simple questions, many of which could have been pre-filled by the government who know who I am, where I am and what I think. It was, however, not the clusterfuck that was the Census before last, or the attempt at COVID tracing, but it still wasn’t smooth sailing. 

Today is May 11, hopefully the current bunch of incompetents will be dispatched in 10 days’ time. Don’t @me, I don’t care if you vote LNP. You have my most sincere sympathy and disgust, in equal parts. If you haven't realised yet, dear reader, this post is exactly 2 weeks after the listed date the result of lack of wifi access and a missing camera cable. (And I'm still celebrating the LNP loss of power).

And that is a wrap. We have a couple of weekend expeditions planned which may or may not rate a mention on this blog. It may well be our next communication will be in August when we venture off for the twice-postponed European river cruise. Unless, of course … but let’s not go there.

Until then.