Reflections of My Life (Sydney-Manila)

Hello, dear reader. Let's deal with the title of the today's post. While not the original, Reflections of My Life was a single released by Australian band Flake in 1967. I woke up after a very restless night last week with it in my head. I have no idea why. Jayne does have it on a compilation album but we haven't played it in years. Today's text breaks are courtesy of my last bushwalk, Starlight's Trail. Enjoy.

And so the journey commences. Transit day as we say. The Uber was on time. The queue at the check-in desk was interesting. Gate C. We didn't know it existed - it was behind the bag drop for Gates B and D (no jokes please - oh, OK, flying with Qantas is sometimes like S and M) and was tagged for flights to the USA and Norfolk Island. Neither is our destination. There were none of the usual lines: online check-in, Business, Economy. Just two lines, one for crew and the other for the unwashed masses. We arrived at just the right time and the line grew long behind us as we waited for our turn.

Raphael, from Qantas ground staff asked if we wanted our bags checked through to Rome. Given we are overnighting in Manila I questioned if this was possible. He assured me it was and then had second thoughts, (after Jayne said she would hold him personally responsible if the bags disappeared) and checked again. No deal, as they say in TV land. Unsurprising. Although he did provide boarding passes for the entire trip. It will be interesting to see if Oman Air re-issue these tomorrow morning in Manila.

Bushfire impact still evident.

Security and passport check went efficiently and we were soon on the happy side of the barrier searching for the Qantas Business Lounge. It has moved due to the fact that they are refurbing the 1st class Lounge which has taken over the former Business space. The 'new' lounge is near gate 24 and was previously the staff lounge. Not sure where they've been moved to. It is a small space and it was crowded, but we secured a table and some morning tea and waited patiently for boarding.

Sydney-Manila

As we headed for our gate, Jayne saw Pat Rafter. This doesn’t count as meeting someone we know. It’s a competition. Walking around the one of the eateries, a woman pops up with “Hello, hello”. It was Julia, a former colleague of Jayne’s. She gets the points and the mythology of ‘always’ seeing someone we know at the airport lives on.

Boarding was efficient and a much-improved experience, now that Qantas has adopted boarding zones. We pushed back about 5 minutes late but landed 10 minutes early. No complaints there. The welcome champagne was, well, always welcome and uncharacteristically, I declined a second glass.

The Nattai River early morning.

Our steward, Steven, was charming and cheerful and topped up glasses without being prompted. The food was excellent. Satay skewers, ginger chicken and noodles, prawn dumplings and a delightful Mencía from McLaren Vale. A red grape from Spain, finding a place in Australia.

The movie selection on Qantas is always expansive and this flight was no different. It can only set us up for disappointment on the other legs. I watched The Hail Mary Project which was quite amusing and endearing. Ryan Gosling at his best. The second movie was a commentary on race relations in the 1920s with David Gulpilil and Gary Sweet. Finally, I endured The Thing with Feathers with Benedict Cumberbatch. We saw the stage version at Belvoir last year with the excellent Toby Schmidt. The film was not far removed from the play and given its harrowing, dark, depressing subject matter, I wonder why I put myself through it again. What’s that, dear reader? I was a captive in a metal tube in the sky and needed to kill time. Yes, of course.

Manila airport, Ninoy Aquino, was manic, as expected. We were among the first off the plane, Immigration was a breeze and the mandated, essential QR code was not requested. But we had our passports stamped! Exciting. Unhappily, digital passports and electronic processing are making stamps redundant.

Our bags appeared promptly on the carousel. We were overnighting here only, so no time for sight-seeing and the hotel, Holiday Inn was about 10 a minute walk from the terminal. If you could survive the taxi touts. And there were many. “Cheapest taxi. We take card. This way sir”. When I declined, it was assumed I was heading for currency exchange and remained shadowed, until I explained I was walking to the hotel. The incredulous look said it all. Walk? He questioned, but it will take 20 minutes.

It was closer to 15 minutes than 10 because, in what is becoming a recurring problem, one of my bags was damaged. Specifically a wheel. The rubber tyre has been torn off, revealing the hard plastic wheel beneath, destroying any ability to move smoothly across the tiled floor. The other issue was construction work which reduced the footpath to narrow patches of damaged concrete with the occasional puddle into which a small child could fall and drown. It was also 26° and around 90% humidity. No, seriously, and the rain had just stopped.

A reflective moment. Title link.

We arrived safely, although, in an Oscar Piastri moment, I had blown another tyre. It now makes a really cool sound when being wheeled across the tiles and doesn’t lurch like a three-legged dog. As the sweat slowly trickled down my back, a shower and bed were in sight. Not so fast. To access a hotel in the Philippines, well certainly in Manila, your bags must be security x-rayed. In all my travels, I have never seen this before. Backpack and suit case into the machine, I walked through the metal detector to be asked if I had a knife in my bag. In my backpack? I questioned, pointing to it. No, he gestured to my case. No, I replied again. Then it dawned on me. We carry a set of cheese knives. You never know when you might be assailed by a soft brie or we need to attack a tough pecorino. A proper cheese knife is the only defence. We also travel with our own wine glasses. If you ever doubted that we are snobbish wankers, these revelations should assail any qualms. Bag opened, knife set inspected, conference among security staff, knives returned and we were zipping to reception.

Check-in was fast and the hotel is gratis because I used points we accrued in Spain last year. Bargain. We discussed getting to the airport tomorrow morning. Terminal 1, not Terminal 3 where we arrived. It is the furthest from the hotel and requires transport. The hotel shuttle doesn’t commence until 6am. We need to be at the airport around 4:45am. Taxi is the answer and they only accept cash. Around 1,000 pesos should do it, about $22AUD. We needed to find an ATM or head to the currency exchange across the plaza, but first it was time to rehydrate, aqua only and drop the bags in our room.

The room aircon was set to Arctic. Unsurprisingly. It’s the same in Singapore and KL. We then headed down and spoke to some other security staff about the way forward. I didn’t really want to get the local currency. Do you have Grab? She enquired. Grab is the Malaysian and Philippine version of Uber. And yes, I do, courtesy of my working days with UNSW Global. A credit card update and we ordered a ride for 4:15am. No cash required.

We lost 2 hours in the time change from Sydney to Manila, so it was definitely time for a shower and bed.

Alla prossima.

Sunsets (Sydney - Manila - Muscat - Rome)

It's that time of the year again, my dear reader. Time to pack our bags and head overseas. So, this post is mostly text with a few local Redfern photos added for colour. The destination of choice this year? Well, it's a little bit of this and a little bit of that. First to Italy via an overnight stop in Manila and then onto Egypt to check out the tetrahedrons and cruise the Nile.

In order to fly Business Class and not spend a fortune, there are some tricks. By comparison, current flights from Sydney to Rome return, with the national carrier, cost around $19k each. However, by flying with a tier 2 airline that is a part of One World, you can still score Qantas points and in some case status credits. We are flying with Qantas to Manila and staying overnight, using accrued points at hotel in walking distance of the airport terminal. From there, we fly with Oman Air to Rome via Muscat. These flights are listed as First Class, but according to a seat tracker I use, they are actually Business Class. Cheers to the US where Business Class is not understood.

The complicating factor is the return flight because of the side trip to Egypt. Again with Oman Air, we fly from Cairo to Muscat and then Kuala Lumpur, connecting with a Malaysian Airlines flight to Sydney. The cost, you enquire? Just over $6.5k. The cost of both our fares is less than our 'beloved national carrier' charges for one. Booking flights from a hub in South East Asia significantly reduces flight costs and allows you to fly in comfort at the pointy end of the plane. Don't say you weren't told. And while I organise much of our travel, I leave the flights to my wonderful agent, Luvena at Enperso Leisure Travel (luvena@enperso.com).

A random Redfern sunset across the train station.

As is our custom, most of the trip is self-organised and built around some group tours. We have about 7 weeks in Italy, including a food and wine tour of Tuscany with the marvellous Matt Dillow of the Deck Café and Gartelmann Wines in the Hunter. He operates Matt's Food and Produce Tours. We had such an excellent time with Matt on the Catalonia tour last year, we are backing up for a week in Tuscany (and next year, we will be joining him in Malta).

Aside from that, we are visiting Rome (obviously), Florence (just because), and places we have not previously been: the Lakes District, Milan, Bologna, Bari, Lecce, Matera and finally the Amalfi coast, basing ourselves in Sorrento. It is a slower journey than usual except for airport transit stops like Rome, with a minimum of 4 nights anywhere and a maximum of 9 in Sorrento.

Another Redfern sunset. Eat your heart out Santorini.

The visit to Egypt and the pyramids is not something I thought possible for us until TravelMarvel decided to offer a Nile River cruise with time in Cairo. We thought the pricing was reasonable so we added it as a side trip on the way home from Italy.

I write this a week before we fly out and already we are experiencing some challenges. We have pre-booked a number of tours and visits to places that require tickets well in advance, while still leaving time to immerse ourselves in the locales where we have chosen to stay.

An early morning from the hill top, Moore Park.

Airline ticketing has proven to be the biggest hurdle. Re-scheduling meant changing our original journey home from flying through Jakarta to KL instead. Then Malaysian decided to swap us onto another flight home, forcing us to stay in KL for the night. Finally that flight disappeared altogether and our trip was going to finish in Kuala Lumpur. Thankfully Luvena was onto it and all has been rectified. The benefit of using a travel agent for complex flights is obvious. I am now checking the Qantas website daily.

As we prepare to depart our homeland (4 big sleeps to go) I often reflect on how, in Australia, we consider ourselves to be international players, or wish to be. Then I watch the news and despair. Today, aside from real estate prices, the big story was the official opposition in Australia wants to make burning the national flag a crime. Seriously! In a time when there is a cost of living crisis, rampant homelessness and devastation related to climate change is out of control, those who aspire to lead the country wish to start yet another culture war. FML. 

Check out the vibrancy.

And then there is the new addition to Moore Park. The Lord Mayor of Sydney and the populist State Government decided it would be an excellent idea to rip off 6 holes from the public golf course and make it public parkland. Apparently it's a new "vibrant addition" to the precinct. I'm pretty sure there would have been more golfers using it than the average punter. I had it all to myself this morning. More serenity than vibrancy.

Anyway, we're leaving the back country politics and mindless culture wars behind very soon. My next post will probably be from Italy.

Today's title is linked to my sunset photos. Hyperlinking the song is experimental. I had issues last trip with "community standards" which I assume was to do with copyright. Therefore, if the Sunsets by Powderfinger isn't hyperlinked you know that is what the problem was.

Alla prossima.

Changes (Launceston, Tasmania)

Well, hello. I'm back. This time with a rainforest trek through the Tarkine in north-west Tasmania. Although we enjoyed the Tarkine experience with Trek Tours Australia last year, it was not quite what we were expecting. There is a message in that, dear reader - read the track notes before booking the experience. As you might recall we ended up in cabin accommodation, not quite the backpacking or wilderness adventure we had in mind. It was still an excellent experience, but without roughing it around camp sites.

First night's accommodation last year.

Following from that, and after discussions with Nick, one of the guides, we decided to book the Tarkine Rainforest Expedition. A full pack, 6 day camping extravaganza with a maximum of 8 participants, plus the two guides. And, as it turned out, a slightly under quoted distance to be navigated. More on that later.

Once the trek was guaranteed to go ahead, we booked our flights. Ahh, Qantas. Does anything go right with them these days? We had a briefing to attend at 3pm, the day before the walk, and, if we were fortunate, we could get there by 4pm. Otherwise it would be an extra night in Launnie to ensure we made the briefing. 

A few months after we booked the flights, Qantas changed its schedule and put all flights back an hour or so. Hence today’s title, dear reader, a David Bowie classic from 1971. This rescheduling ensured that we could not make the briefing at all. The return flight was also later which meant Dave probably wouldn’t get home until after 8pm. I was offered, and accepted, the option to cancel the flights. We then considered our next move.

Not a tent in sight. Corinna 2025.

Some months later, as we were doing the maths on the extra night in Launceston versus flight costs, Qantas offered $65 flights, which made arriving a day earlier the cost-effective option. Ultimately, we booked Virgin flights home via Melbourne to ensure we arrived in Sydney at a reasonable time.

Unsurprisingly, the flight to Launnie was late leaving but arrived on time. We caught an Uber to the hotel - a significantly cheaper choice than a taxi. That night we finally dined at the Pizza Pub with some unrestrained feral children (not ours), one of whom made deep throated guttural sounds at his sibling. The food was nothing to get excited about, but it was Friday, so pizza.

Saturday

The morning of the briefing continued the unseasonal humidity being experienced in Tassie thanks to Cyclone Narelle, despite it being firmly entrenched in the north of Australia.

In the morning, we headed to Frankie’s for excellent coffee, dear reader, and a blueberry muffin. Then we walked to Aspire, the venue for our 3pm meeting, to discuss rain jackets. I had convinced myself I needed to purchase a new one. The gear list stated a rain jacket with ‘storm flap’. My old jacket, now Dave’s, sports a storm flap, my new Quechua from Decathlon does not, although it is tri-layered and rated to 20,000mm for waterproofing.

After some discussion with the very helpful man in the shop, it was decided that storm flaps are somewhat passé and have been made redundant by the YKK zip system. It was back to the hotel to repack our gear and check the zip on my new jacket. Winner! It is a YKK. No need for another new jacket.

The 3pm rendezvous with our guides was drawing near but first, to the river! The North Esk River flows just 50m from the hotel. It was at the street’s end hidden by a substantial levee bank. The levee had a walking path set into its top and we wandered in the overly bright sun for a while. The hole in the ozone layer above Tassie ensures days of sunshine can be glaringly bright and deadly if you don’t apply sunscreen. Blackberry, a noxious weed, ran the length of this part of the river. As a pre-teen going to work with dad we would often stop and pick blackberries by the roadside. They’re in season, I said to Dave, and ran down the bank and commenced feasting on the ripe, sweet berries. Who says you need to be in the forest to forage for food? 

Photo courtesy of Dave.

We returned to Aspire just before 3pm to meet our guides, Lani and Lish, and to pick up our tent. The share of the group’s food would be added tomorrow, before the walk commenced. The group seemed quite good, although 2 people had flight issues and didn’t make it. Of the 8, there were two couples/pairs travelling together, one of which is Dave and me. The other four were solo adventurers, 3 women and a man. Interesting. Aside from the solo man (see what I did there?) everyone was from Sydney.

That night, we decided to dine at the Mersh, aka the Commercial Hotel. It was just around the corner from where we were staying and had a large menu on display outside. In hindsight, we probably should have gone inside to check it out. It had good reviews online but, well, it was old school. Old carpet, dated décor, dodgy gambling room and a hen’s party of screaming 20 something girls that invaded the quiet as we ate dinner. Despite that, the food was good and the people were lovely.

Bed time. We needed to be well rested. Tomorrow the trek begins.

Until tomorrow.

 

Who'll Stop the Rain (Sydney - Hong Kong)

It's that time of the year again, dear reader, when the wanderlust overtakes my soul and I need to get out and explore the world. Also, I'm over Sydney's shit weather with August on track to break a 160 year rainfall record. A shout out to all those who believe climate change is a myth. Obviously that brings me to today's title, and yes I am going to continue with song titles. Who'll Stop the Rain by Creedence Clearwater revival all the way from 1970. Enjoy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIPan-rEQJA.

The journey to the airport was too easy, despite the early start and the rain. I may have mentioned previously that one of the many highlights of retirement is rarely having to set an alarm. 5:30am is somewhat of an affront these days. The Hughes car, courtesy of APT, was waiting downstairs before the allotted time so we were en route to Mascot by 6:45am. The back seat of the Audi A6 proved spacious and comfortable.

From Kowloon Park, purely to break up the text.

There was the requisite traffic jam as we neared the Departures on-ramp, but nothing that was unexpected on a Wednesday morning. And the rain continued. Did I mention that Sydney has had some inclement weather recently? 

Inside the terminal we made our way toward the Qantas desk and bumped into some friends we hadn't see for a few months. They were off to Bali. There was no-one waiting at check-in and we were soon in the queue for security screening. Not the sort one may be subjected to at US customs in the days of Trump.

It was here our smooth run stuttered slightly. Nothing happened. There were no tubs in which to place our items and so the line grew. People looked around perplexed. While we had not reached the wailing and gnashing of teeth, there was much muttering under the breath. Magically tubs appeared, people loaded them and sent them onto the conveyor and we were moving again. Momentarily.

From Kowloon Park, purely to break up the text.

We made it a very few metres to the other side of the body scanner and stopped once again. I'm so glad Sydney Airport Authority has spent so much money on this new system. The problem this time? An over zealous bag checker or a too finely calibrated x-ray machine. More bags were sent for a second check than were being sent through which ensured a repetition of the traffic jam outside, only with carry-on luggage.

At the head of the queue, were two young girls who were having their bags emptied and everything opened. Including lipstick. I've never been harmed by a lipstick before, although in the John Wick films. who knows what could happen? My first bag made it safely into my hands; my backpack was not so lucky. Nor was Jayne's. And so everyone milled around, waiting and striking up unusual, disgruntled camaraderie. A change of the bag searchers proved serendipitous - the process was magically expedited and we were soon ensconced in the Business Lounge, sipping bubbles. Yes dear reader, how the mighty have fallen. My Platinum status is gone forever and with it, access to the beloved First Class Lounge with it table service and champagne. Sigh. It was still raining btw.

Having endured the constant catarrhic cough (love a good alliterative phrase) of an elderly (read older than us) fellow lounger who we were sure would appear in QF 127 Business Class to Hong Kong to infect us right at the commencement of our odyssey, and suitably fortified by bubbles we walked the ten minutes to the gate. Boarding was slightly late but the new insistence on boarding groups by Qantas (welcome to the new century, other airlines have been doing it forever) works remarkably well. It also helps if you fly Business. And there go the last of my FF points.

Pretty sure you've got the concept.

The A330 is the plane they should be flying to Perth instead of those clapped out old 737s. Lie flat beds and plenty of space with the catarrhic woman nowhere in sight, made the almost 10 hour flight comfortable. Allowing for the fact that you are sitting in a metal tube in the sky. As to Cold Chisel and the words in that Australian rock anthem, Khe San, "in seven flying hours I'll be landing in Hong Kong", like what? Seven hours? Tell 'em they're dreaming.

HK Immigration was busy but the line moved efficiently and our bag rolled towards us as we approached the carousel. Magic. Out into the humidity we strolled to the taxi rank and straight into a cab. A note for anyone who has not been to HK previously, bring your cash. The trip to the hotel was almost $300HK -  about $60AUD but if paying by card, you will be directed to order an Uber.

HK traffic is manic. Happy to be in the back seat. Hotel check in was fast and attentive and our bags were delivered to our spacious corner room within minutes. The view of the harbour at night is quite pretty with the lights, like a poor person's Vivid. Bags unpacked, we headed to the 38th floor of the Mondrian Hotel to the bar for our complimentary welcome drink to discuss our itinerary for the next few days. It wasn't raining.

Looking back to the entry.

The view out to the harbour.

I'm still on Sydney time so I woke early and it still wasn't raining. Unlike home where there were dire weather predictions. Again. There was no reason to rush, Hong Kong plays late and starts late. We opted for breakfast in the hotel, not that we wanted much, pastries, coffee and juice will see us through to dinner. Jayne navigated the breakfast options once our high speed speaking waiter calmed down and spoke more slowly.

Even the turtles are into high rise.

A coffee report, dear reader? It was brewed but passable. The pastries were excellent. The juice freshly squeezed. We mapped out our day and headed down to the Concierge to discuss our options. 

Back in the room I changed into shorts and sandals and we caught the lift down to the Ground Floor. Catching a lift in Asia often is challenging. Well, confronting if you value personal space. It seems that a full lift is never quite full and we have been stunned by the number of people that emerge once the doors open. Memories of Mary Poppins' carpet bag.

The old and the new of Hong Kong.

I fired up the Holafly e-sim and put the address into maps and off we wandered toward the wharf to the Tourism Centre to discuss the concept of 'jump the queue' tickets for the Sky Terrace tram. I suspected it was an advertising ploy by a third party company and so it turned out. We will buy our tickets through the main website.

Hong Kong Island from Kowloon.

There was a slight breeze so the 84% humidity wasn't that problematic as we turned for Kowloon Park. Had I married a shopper, I would have been in serious trouble because our path crossed just about every designer store in the city. But I didn't and we walked directly to the park, an oasis among the towering apartment and office buildings.

WorkCover would love this.

There were numerous ponds and fountains which attracted the selfie brigade. In number. There was also an aviary which contained a very small number of larger parrots and cockatoos, some from Australia. Yellow Bitterns seemed to abound as did numerous other birds I am uncertain of, and an enclosure of slightly pink flamingos - a big drawcard for the park. Only one pond contained carp, surprisingly, the rest were overcrowded with turtles.

Flamingos with Bittern. Look closer.

It's high rise everywhere you look.

The Chinese garden was underwhelming compared to what we have seen elsewhere, Australia included. The highlight for some, not me, was the Hong Kong Avenue of Comic Stars. It featured many statues of, well, I guess, comic stars (1960's -2010's). Who am I to argue?

No idea who he is, but he looks hot. And angry. Mostly angry.

If ever I was researching kitsch and its origins I feel Hong kong would be a backbone of the research.

Supporting evidence.

Once again out in the shopping precinct (it never ends), we navigated our way back to the hotel. I was temporarily distracted by a wine store and popped in, purely to enjoy the air conditioning. The 10% off a two bottle purchase was too tempting and we left shortly thereafter: the proud, but temporary owners of a bottle of Petit Chablis and a Montepulciano.

It was beer time after we had recharged my phone. We chose to drink in the hotel, at our expense - it is pricier than a regular establishment. This was due to lack of local knowledge more than anything else. There are numerous 'pubs' or 'clubs' in the area, even in our street, but they were all closed. It is assumed they open later in the afternoon. Anyway, after photos snapped from Floor 40, where there is no rooftop bar (why?), we adjourned to the Avoca, Level 38, again, for two overpriced beers.

From Level 40

Where there is no rooftop bar

Great views, no alcohol, just a smokers' area. What a waste.

A quick side trip to a 7-Eleven for some snacks set us for a couple of hours of blogging and photo production, prior to dinner. Yep, you guessed it, here at the hotel at Avoca. The menu looked really interesting, if albeit, expensive. Ah, it's only money and you can't take it with you.

And that's probably enough for the first post. Stay dry Sydney. If that is at all possible.

Until tomorrow.

I Can See for Miles (Tullah, Mt Farrell, Launceston, Sydney)

And that is almost a wrap dear reader. Today is our last day with Trek and tonight we're at the Sebel and then we fly home with Qantas tomorrow. Back to work and reality for some.

Breakfast was early again and it wasn't quite light when we strolled to the breakfast room where Nick and Hayden had our food ready for the last time. The cloud cover was light and Mt Murchison was shrouded in mist. I assumed the summit of Mt Farrell, our destination today, was the same. Hopefully the cloud would burn off as the sun rose higher.

Mt Murchison, late afternoon.

We lugged our bags to the trailer after breakfast and Hayden soon had everything stowed away. There was one noticeable car in the carpark among all the 4WDs. It was an old Nissan Patrol complete with a massive kangaroo bar across the front of it. Inside the bar, resting on the bumper against the grill, were 9 empty stubbies. Sorry, no picture. A fascinating sight nonetheless.

Mt Farrell. The last climb.

It was a brief drive to the Mt Farrell Reserve carpark. The walk to the summit of 711m had three distinct stages. The first was a steep climb through eucalypt forest, the second across a heath covered saddle and then the climb to the summit. Although there were a couple of false summits before the trig station.

The cuts are for the loggers to place their stands.

Stage one was steep in sections but the path was quite wide and well defined. Off the the track were numerous abandoned mine shafts so it was best not to wander. The canopy of the forest protected us from what little sun there was. The pace was relaxed.

The view ...

After a brief time we emerged onto the saddle. Mt Farrell was still holding onto some light mist but it was lifting. The weather was once again with us and the sun was smiling. The path through the heath proved to be more challenging, not because of the gradient, but because of the hidden roots and branches that grabbed at boots and shins. My 30 year canvas gaiters may have provided some amusement and jokes about a museum exhibit, but they protected my legs.

The valley was still mist covered as we climbed to the tail.

The heath also held plenty of moisture and at waist high, the scrub was soon ensuring wet pants. The sun came out as we traversed the ridge and our group strung out along the trail with Nick acting as 'tail-end Charlie'.

Our destination.

Out of the heath we walked up the tail of Mt Farrell to the first false summit and a break to admire the view. Unlike the rainforest walks we had enjoyed throughout the week, the view here was uninterrupted. As the Who sang in 1967 I Can See for Miles. All the way to Cradle Mountain.

Cradle Mountain in the distance.

At this point our assault on the actual summit was in doubt. The relaxed pace had impacted on what time we had left to reach the top. Nick still hadn't arrived and a quick chat on the walkie-talkie revealed he was stopping with a group member before the climb to the tail. A couple more of our group decided not to press on and to return to Nick. Hayden suggested the remainder of us could climb to the next false summit. Not the top, but better than nothing.

False summit number 1. Excellent view.

Upon reaching our next rest stop Hayden decided we had made such good time that we could walk the remaining distance to the actual summit. Happy days. One more member bailed and decided to wait for us at the second rest stop. 

The remaining five us adjusted packs and pushed forward. It wasn't a difficult walk. The trail was evident although the scrub tore at clothes and uncovered parts of our body as we progressed. Of course something, somewhere pierced my skin and by the time we reached the trig station I had blood all over my right forearm. A fact of which I was unaware until it was pointed out to me. David was disappointed that he supplied a bandaid for my arm but didn't get a photo of the blood. A picture that would have mirrored dad and I from about 30 years ago on Mt Gower, Lord Howe Island.

The summit.

The view was spectacular. The cloud had gone, the sun was out, Lake Henry called to us from below as did Cradle Mountain off in the distance. Dave and I were already making plans to return and complete some parts of the walk we were not able to access this time - as well as adding other side trips, like the walk to Lake Henry.

Lake Henry.

The walk down was uneventful and seemed to take no time at all. Those that had commenced the descent before us had adjourned to a nearby café. We met them at the bus and turned for Waratah, an old tin mining town where we stopped at the local pub for lunch. The pub contains a plethora of historic photos showing Waratah at the peak of the mining boom. The desecration of the land is difficult to imagine as you look around the town today.

Mt Farrell trig station.

We spent a little while checking out the local museum. It was an interesting mix of photos and artefacts from years gone by. Then it was back on the road with a final stop at Van Diemen's Land Creamery for an ice cream.

Back in Launceston the bus did the rounds dropping everyone off at their accommodation. First stop the Hotel Grand Chancellor where I was reunited with my phone. It was completely dead but happily still contained all my cards and cash.

The Sebel is an excellent place to stay after a Tasmanian trek because the suites have a washer/dryer. Should your time in the bush have been impacted by adverse weather and mud you can wash and dry your clothes prior to flying home.

The less said about dinner the better, but next time I'm in Launceston I definitely will not be returning to the Italian Pizza House.

I had pre-booked an Uber to transfer to the airport. It was $15 cheaper than the taxi fare. Ridiculous. We arrived at the airport and finally gained access to the Qantas Regional Lounge - there was a combination lock on the door. The combination could be found underneath your boarding pass. A pity the Qantas staff didn't volunteer this information.

Qantas did everything right on the way to Launceston. Therefore, they did everything wrong on the way home. I was tempted to use a line from Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher as the title of this post, "disappointment is my closest friend". Our 11:35am flight was delayed for an hour and then eventually left at 4:30pm. The problem? It was a brand new plane and someone found an unrecorded dent in the baggage hold. An engineer had to sign off the paperwork before we could fly. Was there an engineer in Launceston? Nope. They had to drive the 2 hours from Hobart.

Back in the Qantas Lounge the alcohol fridge was still locked despite it being after 12pm. A couple of travellers decided they needed a drink and manoeuvered the perspex barrier protecting the alcohol and commenced handing out drinks to the waiting masses. David told them they were "doing the Lord's work". Meanwhile the Qantas staff downstairs began handing out $20 lunch vouchers. A nice gesture, but after a week away I just wanted to get home.

While we waited three Virgin flights arrived and left for Melbourne or Sydney. I've always been loyal to Qantas despite their poor record of recent times, but I'm not sure they are worth the extra money any more. We finally departed. The flight arrived in Sydney just after 5pm and I was home at 6pm.

There will be one last post, all pictures.

Until tomorrow.

This Diamond Ring (Sal Salis – Exmouth – Learmonth – Perth – Sydney)

We missed all the excitement last evening, dear reader. One of the guests had lost a ring. Not just any ring, a diamond engagement ring that had belonged to her mother. Obviously that inspired today's title, This Diamond Ring by Gary Lewis and The Playboys from 1965. Fortunately, it was found in the sand beside the road by one of the enterprising guests (well done Rosa) and ring and owner were soon reunited.

The Lodge and Deck.

Breakfast was the usual affair on the deck with the addition of one of the resident corellas who, this morning, proved to be quite aggressive. One couple decided to offer him a morsel while another was forced to abandon where they sitting for a safer zone. Well, that was the concept. On to a good thing, the corella followed them. Rather amusing really. He did try it on at our table but was no match for me.

Keeping an eye on potential breakfast items.

We chatted with Rosa and Greg again this morning. They have a travel agency in Cobram and I feel we will contact them next time we are heading down toward Rutherglen.

It was another beautiful morning on the reef. Sunshine, no cloud and a light breeze to keep you cool. After repacking the bag and vacating the tent, we sat on the deck watching the whales playing beyond the reef break and commiserated with the other guests who were also departing today.

The Dining Room.

The buggy arrived to transport us to the South Mandu carpark for the change into the mini-bus. We were keen to check in for our flights and to see if Qantas was behaving so phones were at the ready for the moment we were in range of the network. Check-in was finalised as we reached Exmouth and enjoyed a brief stop. We popped into the bakery to enjoy a pie and sausage roll in order to avoid the first leg of airline food. Excellent sausage roll and the pie was good, not Gaffney’s of Seymour standard, but good.

The final sunset #1

There is nothing to report of Learmonth airport because, well, there is nothing at Learmonth airport. The check-in girl was a trainee as was the guy in security so the process was a little longer than usual. After settling down to wait for boarding, Tinnitus arrived and sat within our earshot so we could continue to enjoy their inane conversation. “Unbelievable,” muttered Jayne.

The final sunset #2

Boarding time came soon enough and we made our way down the aisle to our exit row seats to discover … what do you think it was, dear reader? Absolutely correct. Tinnitus were seated across the aisle. “FFS, enough is enough,” Jayne spat under her breath as we stowed our luggage. We’re in a Fokker and the seat configuration is 2-3 with us being the 2 seats. Over the aisle there was a spare seat between Tinnitus. Jayne was horrified when an unsuspecting passenger came down the aisle to occupy the middle seat. I wanted to yell, "It's a trap. Don't sit there". Before he sat down, he offered for Tinnitus to sit next to each other. This generous offer was declined. How did he know they were together you ask? I have omitted a key detail about their behaviour. They always wear matching clothes. Always. Columbia brand only. And yes, I am being judgy.

The final sunset #3

Let’s expedite this story. Our plane was delayed because it was late from Sydney. That’s right blame Sydney. To add to the misery of waiting in an overcrowded lounge, we were flying home in a 737. Its first flight probably occurred before I was a teenager. The business section (no caps) is 12 seats. They don’t recline, the leg rests don’t rise nor does the lumbar support. I was really looking forward to stretching out on the flat bed. Seriously Qantas, how do you sleep at night charging business class rates for this level of service. And yes, the cabin staff were lovely, but that is not the point. I’ve flown much shorter routes in Asia in better cabins. Once again, lift your game Qantas.

Leaving Learmonth.

Anyway, it was a great experience swimming with the whale shark and that, ultimately, is what the trip was about. Aside from not being home for Jayne’s birthday. The plane made up some time on the way home, thanks to a cracking westerly and we were home and in bed by midnight.

Perth was unexpectedly green.

Until next time which will be November for a brief excursion to South Australia.

Art for Art's Sake (Sydney - Perth)

And so dear reader today finds us in the Qantas Business Lounge at Perth airport. Yes, it’s time for another trip, albeit a brief one. By the time this gets published, we will be back home in Sydney. Today we are heading for a place off the grid. More on that later.

We left Sydney on Friday morning. Unlike our last trip to Perth, Qantas did everything right this time. As you know, I have not been a Qantas fan for some time and despite a smooth journey to Perth, it is still too soon to forgive them. They have much ground to make up.

Unhappily the alarm went off at 5:15am. We had pre-booked an Uber for 6:15am and all went smoothly. We had checked our bag, cleared security and were comfortably seated in the Qantas lounge in Sydney before 7am. Having lost my Platinum status, the Business Lounge is now only an option if we are flying Business Class. And we are today, thanks to my bank of Frequent Flyer points.

Unlike our last dodgy trip to Perth where we were diverted via Melbourne, this flight was direct. It was also on an A330-200 which means space and a flatbed, should my back require a stretch. A much better arrangement than the sub-par Business Class seats on the aging 737 fleet.

The flight was uneventful, although the landing was a little on the agricultural side. Our bag even arrived on the same plane. All was going well. Our first challenge was to find the train to Perth. Signage at Perth airport seems to be for those who already know their way around. We discovered this last year. While there were signs pointing to the trains, they soon disappeared, leaving us standing in a car park wondering where we went wrong.

Ever the problem solver, Jayne decided to ask someone in the terminal. Apparently, the trains are accessed at Redcliffe Station, a brief shuttle ride away or 20 minute walk, if you feel you need the trial of a bag drag. I wanted neither and opted for a taxi. Rome to Rio suggested a taxi fare would be around $35. Not even close and we saw parts of Perth we’d never seen before as the driver went out of his way to ensure a high tariff.

We were at the Adnate Art Hotel on Hay Street by midday. The hotel has a large mural painted on its side, a characteristic shared by other destinations in the group, hence today's title. Art for Art's Sake is by 10CC from way back when I was in year 10. Uncharacteristically, our room was not ready, so we went for a walk prior to finding a suitable watering hole - Willi’s Wine Bar in what was once the Royal Perth Hotel and were soon seated, enjoying a bottle of Fiano.

Finding a pub proved a little more difficult than we had imagined. There is still a pub on every corner in Sydney, not so in Perth. Willi’s was a welcome oasis in a desert of shopping options. 

Once we had checked in and stowed our bags, we decided an early dinner would be a priority. It’s only a two hour time difference but the early start was having an impact on energy levels. There was an Italian restaurant, Simple Italian, in the next block over, that had good reviews so that’s where we dined. Pizza, a pasta and lobster dish and a bottle of Montepulciano in an empty restaurant. Bonus. We wandered back to the hotel and had our complimentary nightcap before crashing (relatively) early.

Our last Friday night stay in Perth was on Murray Street which turned out to be party central. Hay Street was a little quieter except for the multi-story carpark near our hotel. The sound of over-revving cars was clearly heard until I drifted off to sleep.

Saturday morning brought overcast skies and eventually, rain. The latter not until we were safely at the airport. Hay Street was quite deserted. In fact, there were less people than Liberal nominations for the upcoming NSW council elections. Ha, laugh, so funny! And they want to run the state and the country. Anyway, we set off in search of a café for breakfast.

The ‘best coffee’ recommendation proved a dud because there was nowhere to sit. It was very much a take-away service. However, across the mall was Espresso and Prosecco. It had an indoor and outdoor option. It had the usual breakfast menu as well as some delectable Italian sweets. Cannoli for breakfast? It was possible. It was tempting. I remained strong. No cannoli.

Better than Prague and not as far to travel.

The café was next door to the London Arcade which sports a decorative clock above its archway. It chimed on the quarter hour and the jousting knights moved back and forth. Most exciting. Do not mock me, dear reader. Have you seen the Astronomical Clock in Prague? It attracts a far bigger crowd and is less spectacular.

As we were enjoying our coffee, we noticed a shop across the mall that had attracted a crowd, queued up around the corner of the building. This was unusual for this hour in Perth. As the knights jousted and the clock chimed 9am, the doors of YKC opened and the crowd surged into the shop. The queue, by this time, stretched down the alleyway and people just kept coming. Amazing. It is, according to Dr Google, a New Zealand clothing company. Street wear, if you will. The sort left over from the ‘90s, with baggy knee height crotches. Not quite my style.

Queued all the way down the lane they were.

Back to the hotel. Check out time and into an Uber for a much quicker and significantly cheaper trip back to the airport. Driving down the Perth streets revealed statues/sculptures just about everywhere we looked. I didn’t notice them last year even though we walked around the CBD. Must do a proper guided walking tour of Perth on our next visit.

We discovered once we had cleared security, that the Qantas Club was closed and we were diverted to the Business Lounge. Happy days.

Our next flight is to Learmonth, the airport for Exmouth, and the spectacular Ningaloo Reef. This trip is  he final piece of the COVID puzzle. Before the pandemic, I had planned a stay at Sal Salis. When we finally made the journey from Perth to Broome last year, we added a trip through the Kimberley to Darwin and in the re-organisation, Sal Salis got bumped.

Approaching Learmonth

Sal Salis is an eco-resort at Yardie Creek in the Cape Range National Park. Yes, it is glamping with fine dining. The tents are behind the sand dunes and it is a stroll to the water’s edge and the Ningaloo Reef. We will be off the grid for the next 5 days which is why this will be actually posted from Sydney.

The magical colours of the gulf.

Until tomorrow.