The best 72p ever spent

The Blue Mist Mountains Of Katoomba...

"...on the trail of the three sis-ters"

Yesterday we went to the Blue Mountains National Park, which are about 100 miles west of Sydney. On the drive out we dropped in to a sanctuary that's mainly for injured, endangered or orphaned animals. Most of what we saw we'd seen at Taronga but most of these guys had been hand reared or had a fair amount of human contact. Despite the Koala's overall furriness (2 of them were actually awake) the wombats are officially Australia's cutest animal. We were equally impressed with the brazen-ness of the kookaburras, they seemed very happy to sit on the backs of the benches and pose for photos. We also saw a Tasmanian Devil, but he just kept running round in circles so i couldn't take a photo. However, for those of you on the RMGS 3rd year trip to Rouen, just sit back and recall Darren's Taz impression, on the coach.

Then we got to the Blue Mountains. They're so called because when sunlight hits the vapours from natural oils that seep from the eucalypt trees, a blueish mist forms around the forest tops. Our photos don't do this region justice as to the naked eye it really does look blue. Apparently when they have a really wet winter (like it hasn't rained enough here) the blue is far more vivid and can even be seen from the centre of Sydney. The forest area at the base of the mountains is predictably home to loads of koalas, although we didn't see any - probably all bloody sleeping. However there were loads of cockatoos flying about and stripping bark from the trees. I found it particularly hard not to snigger every time our driver referred to them as "cockys".

Then we moved on to a lookout point for the Three Sisters. Again our photos can't show how amazing these rock formations are. They do look truly majestic against the backdrop of the forest & mountains. Depending on your views of science and rock erosion you may prefer one of the Aboriginal Dreamtime legends for the naming of these rocks. It is said that when the men travelled into the bush to discuss the matters of the tribe, 3 girls followed them. The tribe's witch doctor chased them through the bush, so to save them their father turned his 3 daughters to stone with a magic stick. In retaliation the witch doctor turned the father into a bird. It is said that if a small bird is seen at the base of the rocks scratching about, it is the father of the sisters trying to find his magic stick. I like to think that Paul Hogan used elements of this in Crocodile Dundee, for when he goes into the bush & dances with the tribe, and the camera bird follows him. Or maybe it's cos women are so bloody nosey.

Metal, water & electricity

We totally forgot to post about our adventure on the bridge. Last week we had booked to do the Bridge Climb. Some of you may have seen this on travel shows, but for those who haven't, basically you climb the right hand edge of the Sydney Harbour Bridge to the summit, across the middle and then back down the left hand edge of the same side. The morning started well as Tash received news of her exam results and had passed them all, so once she gets her project done she'll be a proper Accounts Technician (check her bad, invincible ass). We were both quite nervous about the afternoon fun of the Bridge climb, especially as when in Paris we both coped out of going up to even the first stage of the Eiffel Tower, which is only 57m up. The top of the Harbour Bridge is 134m high. However, the sun was beating down as we had our extensive safety briefing (which included a breathalyser - so no chance of any Dutch courage) and a chance of catching the sunset coming in across the harbour was on the cards.

The first section was negotiating several walkways running along the underside of the bridge, up to the point where the arch starts. I was sh*tting it along these parts. These were the kind of walkways used in every disaster movie when there's a close up of a rivet slowly rattling loose and plunging silently into the ocean/chasm/sky/ether. Next it was 4, nearly vertical ladders that pop up between the traffic lanes of the bridge, so you can get above it to the base of the archs. Tasha was now sh*tting it. At this point it started to rain. Only a bit of good old drizzle (the kind of fine rain that soaks you through) so the rain shells came on but we weren't disheartened as we'd heard the view of the rain clouds sweeping out to the ocean can be quite fantastic. Once on the main arch of the bridge it all felt a lot safer and easier going on the legs, so we trooped on to within about 10m of the summit, when a huge bolt of lightning was seen to the west of the bay. Now everybody was sh*tting it.

The rest all happened quite quickly, really. Everybody was channelled into some safe areas under the main archs, surrounded by concrete but also, worryingly, the steel joints of the structure. It was decided that it was unsafe to continue with the threat of lightning hitting the bridge and also that the temperature had dropped so much it was now hailing, so we headed back to base. The storm moved across the harbour at a rapid rate and by the time we had got out of our gear the dusky sun was back out and the harbour looked peachy.

We did however learn a cool story about Paul Hogan. He used to be a painter on the bridge and one day there was a geezer up there trying to commit suicide. So Hogan simply walked over and started talking to him. The news got wind of it and one of the TV networks were so impressed by the way Hogan had talked the suicidal man down, they offered him a show. This scene was later paid homage to in Crocodile Dundee II.

Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong!

Although i don't think that anyone who may read this actually watches Neighbours, I have to sound off about this -

Paul Robinson and Lynn Scully are now an item.

V wrong. And to top it off the producers keep putting in really gross situations such as them being lecherous over breakfast - Eeeuurrggghhh!

My piece of Australian history

I guess that not many people will have heard of this place – Wollongong is a coastal town, about 2 hours by train down from Sydney. It’s meant to be New South Wales’s 3rd largest town (think Herne Bay with a million times more space) but when we got there it was almost deserted, apart from the Max power boys and their blinging Ute’s.

The reason for going there was we wanted to see where my mum, my uncle and grandparents had lived when they moved to Australia back in the sixties. We didn’t think that the building would still be there as the trend in Australia is to knock anything down that is over 20 years old, but we found it, pretty much next to the beach (apart from the new Rugby stadium which is now in between), and it was a bit strange to think that my mum had lived there all those years ago. Why they moved back to England I’ll never know, Wollongong is so tranquil and beautiful, and so much better than Medway! The beach was amazing, the sand squeaked when you walked on it, which was a bit odd, and the water was a bit cold as it opens on to the Pacific Ocean, but so clear – and only 3 bits of seaweed along the whole stretch we could see!

In Suburbia

Hello everyone! Didn’t realise we hadn’t posted for so long – have been out exploring the outer reaches of Sydney and New South Wales. Last week we went to...

Manly and the Northern Suburbs


We weren’t that interested in going over to the northern suburbs i.e. the other side of the bridge, but we got a free tour last week – how wrong we were to ignore this place. The north side of Sydney is like heaven in a city – if you moved here, this is where you would live.

We went through loads of different areas, all with amazing houses (mum – you would love it) with even more amazing views, as you move further out from the city centre. Apparently, this is where a lot of the stars live, the lucky buggers.

After lots of gushing at houses, we made it to Manly beach, which was our first chance to sample the Australian beach. Sorry to say, but it beats Broadstairs hands down. I don’t think either of us had ever seen water so clear, or sand that looked like it was off the front of a brochure, and yet it didn’t feel touristy at all. If you lived here, you wouldn’t mind getting up early to walk along the beach before work. It was so beautiful. And the big child loved playing in the sea, and getting covered in sand and water before new had to get back on the coach. But what more would you expect?

Hunter Valley


Our next trip out was to the Hunter Valley, which you may have heard of as it is the wine producing heart of NSW. Most of the Australian white wine is produced here, and with over 150 vineyards ranging from the international companies such as Lindemans and Penfolds to smaller family run places and Boutique wines we knew we were in for a good day.

It was a pretty long drive out, at just over a hundred miles along the old Pacific highway, and the scenery change was really dramatic. Once we got past the Sydney suburbs, we were out in the country, and boy, was it backwards. It felt like the kind of country towns you see in films, with like a pub and a church and that’s your lot. We stopped at a place called Wollombi, for the best cream tea, ever. Even though it wasn’t clotted cream, the scones were even better than the Ritz! Morning cream teas and wild Kookaburra’s, what more could you ask for?

After that, we carried on to the wine region, and unfortunately, can now claim to have seen wild ‘roos (although at the side of the road – no more moaning about dead birds on the M25) Again, an amazing change of scenery – from backwards country to wide open valleys, that really could’ve been anywhere in Europe. We stopped at Lindemans to do some wine tasting, lots of different varieties, the Rosé was a bit naff but the Port was tasty. And guess what we bought? Yep, fudge. It’s better for you than wine, anyway.

After that, we moved on to a small boutique vineyard, to see how wine is actually made, and to have lunch with some more sampling. We actually got to go in to the factory with the vats, hence the hard hat, but any romantic ideas we had of people standing in large wooden tubs treading in the grapes were dashed – it’s all really clinical. But we did get a certificate too, so we’re now the authority for choosing après Gills tipples. Lunch was great, lots of different dishes and vino to suit (although I didn’t drink any of it – the wine tasting before was like my yearly intake of alcohol!) Keith gladly finished mine though so it wasn’t wasted.

Last stop of the day was the Hunter Valley village itself, just to have a noodle about and see this quaint little village in the middle of nowhere really. Very nice, lovely coffee and a year round Christmas shop were the best bits! A nice sleep on the coach home (wine and age induced for some, I’m afraid) was the perfect end to the day.

We are having a...

Okay, so I couldn't resist buying these for the novelty name. Why don't we have stuff like this at home? It would make life just that much better.

And for once, this wasn't Keef being juvenile.

Sorry, mum. But I know you'll find this funny too.

All creatures great and small

Well, my birthday started in the pooest way possible – being woken by the bin men at 6.30am. So after much grumbling we got up and I spoke to my folks and Tasha’ folks – Ben howled “Happy Birthday” to me. Then it was present time – thanks to all who risked the notorious Aussie post and sent stuff out (to every one else I’ll pick ‘em up when we get back home :) I’ve now finally got a real pair of Oakleys but not the usual looking ones, more of a squarer, college geek style. Then it was cereal with chocolate milk whilst listening to some tunes, we even had a little dance to Kenny & Dolly.

Then we jumped onto a harbour ferry to cross over to Luna Park. All the rides were closed as it’s more of a permanent evening fun fair, but it was more to see the entrance, which Debbie (Tash’s mum for those not in the know) can just about remember visiting when she lived in Oz in the mid 60s.

Next stop was Taronga Zoological Park. I thought we were going cos anyone visiting on their birthday gets in for 90 cents but my luvlee laydee surprised me with the best thing ever (stop sniggering) - I got to have a guided tour of the indigenous animals and play keeper for the afternoon. It’s impossible to say how ace this was, particularly as they take round groups of 8 people but it was only us today so I didn’t have to share keeping duties with snotty oiks. We started off with this wicked little wallaby that let me feed and pet her, and then I also got to feed an emu too. I would’ve tried for a Rod Hull style pose, but real emus don’t take kindly to being cuddled, let alone having an arm shoved up their arse. Then we moved on to some koalas who basically spend most of their lives chilling out – they can sleep for up to 20 hours a day. Maybe a distant relative of DJ? These were so cute. They don’t really like being handled but I got to stroke them and have some photos taken. Swiftly on, we got to the echidnas, weird marsupial-type-anteater things with really hard spines. They reminded me of the haircuts on the hoverboard louts in Highlander 2, but I doubt anyone else has seen it.

Next it was the nocturnal critters, of which the first was the platypus. He was a lot smaller than expected but totally amazing – apparently when the first samples were taken to England all the scientists thought it was a joke and it was lots of bits of dead animals stuck together. We had a short stop off at the main food prep area and got to try some of the delicacies. That may sound gross but the nectar substitute they use wasn’t bad, despite being full of sugar & honey (but you still can’t beat a nice Bonio). Then the best bit of the day ever – I got to go into the cabinet for the gliding squirrels and feed them. One of them was particularly taken with me and kept hiding in my hoodie. When our guide, also called Natacha (but spelt wrong), tried to remove said flying rodent it had a go back and bit her. This went on for a bit but it was so cool to have this little furball so close. Tasha even joined me to feed peanuts to the potoroos, which are like friendly, hopping guinea pigs.

We got to go over with a wombat too. She’d been orphaned when her mother was hit by a car, with the little wombat still in the pouch :( So as she’s been hand reared she was totally showing off, although we couldn’t pet her in case instinct kicked in and she bit us. Wombats eat all kinds of hard foods so we could’ve lost some fingers. Last bit of the tour was to the roos. Unfortunately we couldn’t go into their enclosures as they’re so ridiculously strong. Most are hand reared so think nothing of trying to play fight with humans but they have little comprehension of how strong they really are. Plus the males are about 7 foot tall. There was also a wickedly stripy tree kanga who had gigantic balls. He definitely was the daddy!

To round the day off, Tash made me some excellent bacon & mozzarella burgers and chocolate & marshmallow brownie cake. I’ve also had my first booze since I left England – predictably some cider and a bit of bourbon & ginger.

All in all, it’s been a good was to spend my day. Missing friends & family, but I couldn’t have wished for a better birthday, so special thanks to my laydee – Tasha, I love you xxxx

At last some lords to oversee the crims

As it was Census night on Tuesday 8th August, we are now officially part of the Australian population. Unfortunatley, as visitors we didn't get to fill out most of the questions.

Location, location, location

If anyone's bored and has Google Earth, then navigate yourself to Sydney and check out where we're staying at the following point of latitude and longitude;

33 degrees 52'17.92" S by 151 degrees 13'41.70" E

If you haven't got Google Earth then get it here, cos it's ace.

For the love of God...

...can someone please go round to the PG Tips offices and get them to start exporting some proper tea to food shops! The only places you can get it are in "British" shops - which means they can charge over a fiver for a box of 40. We've now moved onto Bushells, which is only good if you leave the tea bag in the mug (I know i do this already but that's to enhance my mug, no to just about make it bearable) but we were drinking the allegedly world famous Billy Tea. No? Me neither. Billy Tea is a bit like Stella - you only drink it cos it's strong despite it not tasting particulalry nice.



ADDITIONAL - I've had a nose about and the above product is a branded version of a traditional bushman's recipe. Have a look here at Smokos Snacks and Hangovers. You remember the campfire bits in Crocodile Dundee? I could do that, just call me Keef-odile Dun-the-tea!

Little Britain get everywhere

During Wednesday's episode of Neighbours (I know most of you probably don't watch it) Paul presented his black credit to Max in payment for copius amounts of champagne. The card was declined and when Paul queried this, Max simply replied with a slight sneer and said "Sorry, computer says no!". Nuff said.