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Tag Archives: Landscape

Cairns: Tropical North Queensland

11 Saturday May 2019

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Before the plane lands in Cairns you see the new environment. Unlike anywhere else we’ve been in Australia, the forest of north Queensland is dense green. Enough rain falls year round to keep a thick cover of trees and underbrush growing. We thought Darwin would be like this, but even though it is often hotter, Darwin is in seasonally dry tropical forest. There isn’t enough rain in the dry season to keep everything growing. As a consequence the forest around Darwin is thinner, with less underbrush.

Not only is the forest around Cairns dense, it covers coastal mountains so steep that only a few roads cut across into the interior. Though we are well into autumn in the southern hemisphere, the temperature hits 80° F. most days, and we do use the pool in our yard. Two blocks away is Kewarra Beach. On weekends there are lifeguards and the net to keep out box jellyfish. There are reminders about other hazards, as well.

We had a preliminary look at the coast, driving from our base in Kewarra Beach north as far as Wangetti.

Next we went inland to Barron Gorge. There are boardwalks built along the edge of the cliff overlooking the gorge. There isn’t a swimming hole here because the water eventually runs into the power generating station for Cairns. The view is lovely and we saw new birds along the way.

At the far end of the complex is Wright’s Overlook, where you can see Cairns in the distance. We’ll do more exploring across this area now that we’re back on our schedule of staying for a month rather than having to “run off” after a week or two.

 

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Uluru: A Wonder of the World

03 Friday May 2019

Posted by in Australia, The Ghan

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We planned to skip the Ghan’s Uluru option (crowds, distance, expense) and tour Alice Springs, where the train stops for the day. We changed our minds when we found that the scenic flight from Alice to Uluru included a stop on the ground to see Uluru up close, a drive around the rock, and some time to walk around.

From the air, we finally saw The Outback. Not a bare desert, but a vast area of tan grasses, spindly gum trees, and lots of an invasive grass from S. Africa that we are assured no animal will eat. Parts of the Outback resemble the Sonoran Desert of Arizona and northern Mexico. What differs is its immensity. We flew more than 400 km and saw roads only at takeoff and landing. There was one town, Hermannsburg, a former mission. There was also Pine Gap. If you watch Netflix, you may have seen the new show set at the CIA/Australian joint spy base. Having seen a few episodes, it was a bit strange to actually see the field of white domes that covers the spying equipment. Beyond Pine Gap and Hermannsburg, we saw no isolated farmsteads, roads, trains, trucks, vehicle tracks, not even any animals. Somewhere below us was a cattle station of over one million acres, yet we saw no evidence of this. There were no fences, water tanks, windmills, air strips, the features of remote farms.

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Geology and vegetation create the landscape. What looks like the green verges of a superhighway is a geological fault. A crack in the earth lets a bit of water escape and a streak of dark green trees emerges. Pale earth is peppered with green shrubs, alongside an empty river cut through rock. An irregular band of white pools crossed our route, a dry river of salt, hundreds of thousands of tons too remote to mine. Straight lines on the ground are bands of red, ochre, and tan stone lying one beside the next, straight as an arrow, or bending in parallel lines created eons ago. On the distant horizon rounded hills suggest this flat plain eventually ends.

Some of the landscape recalls aboriginal painting, circles, dots, lines of contrasting colors. How can there be no roads? Finally, I begin to see roads, threads of orange-brown.

After an hour and a half in the air, we approached Uluru, imposing even from above. The aerial circuit was spectacular, and was followed by a swing around Kata Tjuta, a knobby rock formation that is close by, aeronautically speaking, though it would take at least an extra day to visit by car from Uluru.

Kata Tjuta, with Uluru in the background.

We are compressing a three day visit into one, our aerial outback tour followed by a picnic lunch on the ground at a shelter perfectly positioned to let us soak in Uluru while sitting in the shade. Next we walk to the Mutitjulu Waterhole with a stop at some rock art along the way. Everyone sees different things in the rock art.

Our tour guide was a white Australian, young enough to be completely captivated by Aboriginal stories of The Dreamtime. The age of rock art is given as 5000 to 8000 years old. When we asked whether there had been any archaeological investigation of the area to provide samples for dating the rock art, the young man enthusiastically told us that archaeology wasn’t needed because the stories of The Dreamtime are supported by visual proof. “See the way there is a dark shadow on the rock that follows the curve of the cliff?” “That is the snake from the story of….” He believes that there is nothing more needed than the stories to explain Uluru. Science is not part of his mindset, at least not right now. We wonder why the guides are not Aboriginal people.

Completing a circuit of Uluru by car, we hear the history of visits and visitors. Many people have climbed it over the years, and though the aboriginal owners have banned climbing as of October 2019, there will be controversy until no one remembers when it could be climbed. We are not staying long enough to consider a climb.

On our return flight, I try to photograph as many of the different patterns of landscape as I can, knowing that a photo through the window of a small plane will be no substitute for seeing the many forms of the land that expand the definition of “desert” to a much broader range of shapes and colors. Back in Alice Springs, I am amazed and content. The tiny plane barely scared me and our visit to Uluru was beyond great.

The day is not over, as the entire train of 300 dines al fresco at the old Alice Telegraph Station. As the sky darkens and the stars come out, we walk away from the illuminated dining area to look up. The Milky Way is a starry shawl thrown into the heavens, while the constellations shine brightly, performing the fandango of the night sky.

Internet Photo

 

The Ghan: Railroad Adventure to Katharine, NT

01 Wednesday May 2019

Posted by in Australia, The Ghan

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We wanted to see the interior of Australia, that vast dry landscape that fuels novel after novel, starting for me with The Thorn Birds, on through the mysteries of Arthur Upfield (The Bone is Pointed). Everyone in Australia knows the true stories of exploration by Burke and Wills, who completed their crossing of the continent, dying of starvation at the end of their journey. There are ranches (stations) of more than a million acres, where drones are starting to be used to track animals. We wanted to see a region that is so resistant to encroachment by man.

Australia is both huge and largely empty, and travelers who want to leave the principal urban regions have to go prepared. Having left our camping and RVing days behind us, we decided that taking the train from Darwin to Adelaide would give us a chance to see some of the “Red Center.” We booked our trip on the Ghan, choosing the expedition version that stops each day in the 4 day/3 night journey for a side trip. This was perfect for us. We took the Indian Pacific train across the country from Sydney to Perth last month, and it didn’t work out at all, so with a bit of trepidation, we set off for the Darwin train station.

This time, the trip started on time, and after an early lunch–who doesn’t enjoy a dining car?–we stopped in Katharine, a mere 300 km down the road, for an afternoon visit to Katharine Gorge. We took the relaxing trip, a boat cruise along the sides of the gorge with a stop to look at aboriginal rock art. There is more spectacular rock art in Australia, but most of it requires a healthy hike in the high heat and humidity. I asked our boatman whether the holes in his hat were from a crocodile bite. (He laughed.) We did see a salt water crocodile on our cruise. They have a very pointed nose and are only 4-6 ft. long. They couldn’t even get your foot in their mouth…..

Back on board the train, we watched the dry scenery until sunset, then met new people at dinner. Most of the other travelers were Australians taking the trip to see more of their country, though we chatted with people from the UK, the US, and New Zealand. Overnight, the Ghan crossed a lot of empty territory. We watched the sun come up over a dry, dry landscape. It’s not desert with sand dunes, but desert with colored rock, low scrub bushes, and sparse grass.This was Day 1. More soon.

The Heat of Darwin

19 Friday Apr 2019

Posted by in Australia, Darwin

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Stepping outside the airport terminal in Darwin, the humidity wraps you like a thick fog. It’s over 90°F, and barely started on the walk to collect the rental car, our clothes are sticking to us. Our new Airbnb is nearby, our host is waiting, and we get all the instructions we need in short order. Two minutes after his departure, we are sitting in the pool. It feels heavenly, and slowly my brain comes back online.

We are in Darwin at a good time, the start of the dry season. It may not rain at all while we are here, there are few bugs, and the crocodiles are retreating into the estuaries (I don’t think I will be swimming, just in case). Within two days, we adjust to the weather by getting up early to look at birds and avoid the heat, shop in the air conditioned stores during the heat of the day, and swim or sit on the patio in the late afternoon. Cumulus clouds build into giant fluffy white mounds. They are the Queen Mum of clouds, in stately progress toward the horizon. There are a surprising number of new birds in our yard and the nearby park, and a pair of huge flying foxes (bats) come out of a nearby tree at dusk. The last rays of the sun turn their leathery, translucent wings orange as they flap in a leisurely loop around the neighborhood (internet photo). When they return to the tree, they hang upside down. Folded-up, they return to their dark brown color, resembling a demented cat hanging by its tail. I’ve never seen anything like this. Welcome to Darwin, a different way of life.

There are lots of places where we can watch the sun set over the water. An hour before sunset, the park between our house and the beach comes alive.  Families emerge to walk or sit and chat, while the “pock pock” of bouncing balls becomes noticeable. Bicyclists whiz along the path. The sounds of people in the parkland continues until well after dark. Streetlights come on but people disappear only gradually. It is much nicer out after dark than it was in the heat of the day.

 

 

The Indian Pacific Raillway Takes Us Across

07 Sunday Apr 2019

Posted by in Australia, Indian Pacific

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We spent a peculiar four days and three nights crossing Australia from Sydney to Perth. The trip included days of being glued to the train window watching the scenery as it went from tall trees to flat, dry, and empty, liberally dotted with kangaroos and emus. On the other hand, we took this trip to enjoy a number of interesting stops along the way. Due to a breakdown before we ever boarded, we didn’t get any of those opportunities that were such a large part of our decision to take the train. Never mind the downside, the view out the windows was fascinating!

The land became drier and drier as we moved west. The soil ranged from red to white.Water for irrigation is running out and we saw recently abandoned grapevines.

Salt flats between Adelaide and Tarcoola.

We got off the train for a few minutes at Broken Hill, which has interesting train murals. Twenty minutes was just enough time to walk up and down the platform and get some fresh air.

Our next stop was Adelaide, and it was dark when we arrived. The final stop during the journey was Kalgoorlie, where we had an hour to stretch our legs. By then, our third full day on the train, everyone was happy to disembark for a while. We strolled around in the early morning light.

 

Life on board the train was not uncomfortable, though it did get to be a lot of the same sights after three days of constant motion. There were only a couple of places where the route turned and let us see the cars ahead.

It’s always fun to eat in the dining car of a train, making meals an event. The food was good, and the company excellent. Having Lyra with us made it more fun. The three of us made a winning trivia, team, too.

Outside the train, especially in the late afternoon, we saw kangaroos browsing as they watched us pass. There were emus, hawks, and other birds, though we did not see any feral camels, despite spending many hours looking out the window. The sunsets mixed orange sunlight with blue, gray and white fingers of cloud in patterns that changed as we watched. We arrived in Perth after dark, the last kangaroos long since passed. Disembarking was a bit like emerging from a space ship might be. We set down in another landscape, completely different than what we had been seeing out the window. Perth is a large city, and we had to re-engage with reality, find a taxi and go pick up our rental car. Our days of staring out at Australian landscape now over, though well worth the time spent.

If anyone is interested in the story of how our Indian Pacific trip ended up with minimal stops, leaving Sydney late and arriving in Perth late, I’d be happy to tell you.

Sydney through the eyes of painters

19 Tuesday Mar 2019

Posted by in Australia, Sydney

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The forecast was rain, putting museum visits at the top of the day’s activities. We have visited both the northern and southern extremities of Botany Bay and Sydney Harbor, so when I read that a painting of the view from the North Head was newly installed in the National Library of New South Wales, it became a must-see. We had visited the North Heads on a perfect day.It was also a beautiful a day when Arthur Streeton painted the view in 1894.Panoramic View of Sydney Harbour and the City Skyline, depicts the complex entrance to Sydney Harbor. Streeton is one of the best known of late 19th-early 20th century Australian painters. I found other views of the same vista by painters of the previous generation, equally lovely.

I get great pleasure from seeing a painting of a landscape I have visited. On the left is the North Heads by Eugene von Guerard in 1856, on the right by Conrad Martens in 1866. The landscape didn’t change much until the 20th century, yet each artist shows the bay in a slightly different way. Between the National Library and the Art Gallery of New South Wales, we had a tour of the history of Australian art 1850-1960.

There were other places we’ve seen that look different today than they did when painted. Fairy Bower is still a lively spot between Shelly and Manly beaches.

This is the Fairy Bower pool today (left) and when painted in 1956.

Romantic paintings of the beaches are often so much lovelier than the reality. Both the above are from Bondi Beach, and the ones below show beachcombing.

One last painting caught my eye because it depicts countryside that we have seen in the parts of rural Australia we’ve visited so far. Morning Light, by Elioth Gruner, painted in 1916. Few of the Australian artists are well known outside these borders, though their common themes of natural beauty and tranquility are universal. It makes me happy just to look at them.

Tasmania high and low (temperature)

31 Thursday Jan 2019

Posted by in Australia, Tasmania

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I started to summarize our month in Tasmania and couldn’t remember anything but this week’s weather. One day the temperature is in the 90s, the next day the high 60s, changing more than 30° (F.) in twelve hours. Yesterday, I swam in the ocean, today’s forecast is 54° with smoke. Yo-yo temperatures and huge fires have distracted us. We check the internet often to make sure a fire alert hasn’t been issued for our area, only to find that we are miles from the nearest fire despite the smoke.

Forest fires have been been burning the entire month but the smoke has only become a statewide issue in the last few days. We are fortunate that it is just an inconvenience for us. More than 300 people in towns south of Hobart have been evacuated for several days, living in a local gymnasium. We are on our way to Melbourne shortly, where it will still be hot, though perhaps not as smoky.

In Tasmania we focused on nature, walking miles of beaches, admiring the changing landscape and marveling at the features that are similar to other places we’ve been. There are steep rocky hills, towering forests, dry rolling hills, and beaches one Australian we met called “Caribbean without palm trees.”

Though we stuck close to nature in Tasmania, we took in some entertaining and quirky places. Our evening of heavily revised Shakespeare at the Pooley Winery was one highlight,

The Spiky Bridge, outside Swansea, and the Tessellated Pavement, on the Tasman Peninsula are other interesting places we visited. Some of them come from the website Atlas Obscura. It’s a way to look up curiosities near where you happen to be. You can join and add sites you find, too.   https://www.atlasobscura.com/. The Tesselated Pavement is a geological feature, even though it looks like flooring or paving squares.

Fossil Cove held layers of fossil imprints.

Our month here was delightful. No wonder Tasmania is Australia’s favorite vacation spot.

Vineyard Breezes

22 Tuesday Jan 2019

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This month our home is a small vineyard outside Hobart, Tasmania. Though the property itself is only a few hectares, it is surrounded by hills of grazing land and it feels like we are in the center of a huge farm. Our house is the only dwelling, the owners live elsewhere. The owner and her two workers come and go, and a couple of repurposed shipping containers are the farm outbuildings. It is a small operation.

For me, this is the best of farm life, the beauty and the comfort of country routines like opening and closing the gate, watching the ducks, geese, sheep, cattle, horses, yet without any of the chores. Across the fence is the water for the geese and ducks. They drift over to the water, then out among the vines to nibble, then back again, all day long. Ten short “baby doll” sheep spend some days browsing among the vines. They are intended to keep the grass down between the rows, though we do see them chewing the vines. I don’t have to feed or water any of the animals, and when the geese all escaped and began browsing along the road, I didn’t have to round them up, put them back in their pen and fix the gap in the fence.

I lean on the gate while Jonathan chats with our host and one of her workmen. The breeze is cool and comfortable and I soak up the sun and the gentle swish of the wind. When we return from our trip to the beach, I hang the laundry out to dry on a rotating clothesline like we used when I was a kid. The scene takes me back to those days, helping my mom hang clothes on the line, and the delicious smell of sheets dried outdoors. Firewood sits in a heap on one side of the yard. I don’t need to think about starting a fire because it is the middle of summer; the pile shelters a family of bunnies that run in and out.

I walked to the top of the hill beyond us one afternoon, following the fenceline past the cattle. Looking over the hill, then back on our house, I see other small farms with their flocks of sheep, horses, and a pasture holding a single ostrich. The stillness and permanence of the landscape in the fading sunlight impresses me with the vastness of the land next to one person. That unchanging presence of the land compared to my tiny being makes me want to see what is just beyond the horizon. There I am in a nutshell. I’ve always wanted to see what’s just around the corner, the next bend in the shoreline, over the next hill, and I always will. The illusion that I am alone meditating on life in a great still silence lasts until the next car passes, and the train pulling its daily load of timber chugs by. I head for home.

The View from Mt. Wellington

18 Friday Jan 2019

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What a week! We visited beaches as beautiful as you can imagine, saw wallabies jumping across a rural road, parrots only found in Tasmania, and flocks of cockatoos landing in the trees! We ended the week with a visit to the Sunday farmer’s market in Hobart–Tasmania has excellent celery, among other things. Then a stop at the flea market at the Hobart Showgrounds, and it was barely noon. We decided to head to the top of Mt. Wellington, and as promised, the view was stunning.We used our visit as a giant atlas, reviewing some of the places we’ve been and spotting new ones. Southeast Tasmania around Hobart has a very long coastline because of the many peninsulas. Each one provides is laced with walking trails, beaches, and vantage points. We are going to visit as much of the coast as we can.

Sunday Farmer’s Market, Hobart: This is also called the Farm Gate market, or Bathurst market, as it’s on Bathurst St. between Elizabeth and Murray Sts. Not large, but with  produce, cheese, meat, and baked goods that are really excellent. One stand had a long line the entire time we were there. They make donuts with exotic cream fillings (e.g. saffron ginger). Another stand makes really delicious cinnamon rolls and croissants. There are no bargains here, it’s all top quality at a corresponding price. We parked in a nearby parking structure–first two hours free!

Flea Market, Hobart Show Grounds: This is a large spread of vendors. There’s lots to look at both indoors and out. Outdoor vendors were thinking about packing up early on the day we visited because the sun was so hot! No admission or parking fee.

About Mt. Wellington: This all-ages destination has a road to the very summit, free parking, paths (with stairs) to different viewing spots, and fabulous views. It is up to 10° (C) cooler than Hobart, so take a sweater, even on a sunny day.

Road Trip! Milford Sound and Queenstown

14 Friday Dec 2018

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Each of our New Zealand stops lasts two weeks, and we tend to go on one trip that takes us away from our base overnight. Our present spot on Shag Point is the farthest south we get in New Zealand and we were torn between getting to see more of the coast nearby and seeing other parts of the South Island. We decided on a whirl across the South Island to see Milford Sound and Queenstown, returning through the wine country of Central Otago.

On our loop south, we crossed miles of sheep pasture. This is the part of New Zealand where sheep outnumber people more than twenty to one. The yellow hillside in this photo is covered with gorse, an invasive species that sheep won’t eat. (Winnie-the-Pooh fell into gorse bushes and found them very prickly). Many plant and animal species thrive in New Zealand’s cool and rainy climate, which is part of the reason that invasive species are an ongoing menace.

Brush tailed Possum–note bushy tail
Opossum–note skinny tail, pointed head

As I’ve mentioned, every mammal is invasive. One of these, a brush-tailed possum came to our patio door to invade us! He stared through the glass and was only intimidated from trying to get in the house when he hit his nose hard on the glass.(Possums are not related to opossums found in the US). Possum eradication includes the development of a merino wool/possum fur fiber blend that is very soft. It has become popular for sweaters, scarves, and gloves.

As we drove west, the high mountains of the Fjordland National Park rose up in the distance. The huge park encompasses the southwest portion of the South Island of New Zealand and is about the size of Connecticut. We arrived in Te Anau, the closest jumping-off spot for Milford Sound, in the afternoon. The sun was bright and there was almost no wind, it was beautiful.  Lake Te Anau is a very long, narrow, deep lake bordered by snow-capped mountains. We watched a seaplane take off with groups of sightseers as we strolled to the local bird sanctuary from our hotel. It was great to stretch our legs after the long drive.

There are very few roads into the Fjordland National Park, the longest runs from Te Anau to Milford Sound. The drive is about 120 km and takes 2 1/2 to 3 hours depending on how many times you stop. From the open space along Lake Te Anau, the road rises around Mirror Lakes, where the reflections in the water were a bit blurred by the rain. The view of the mountains was impressive, with clouds encircling the mountains like smoke rings around Santa’s head in “A Visit from St. Nicholas”.

Our next stop was Monkey Creek, to look for blue ducks. We saw no ducks, but were entertained by a Kea parrot, a largish, short tailed, mischievous, and endangered species. One flew to the top of a van full of tourists. Its goal was to chew anything that looked like it might come off–they particularly like rubber gaskets. It has a very long and pointed beak, so I kept my distance. We saw it ride off on top of the van rather than let go of whatever it was chewing. Similar antics were on display as we waited our turn to go through the Homer Tunnel on the approach to Milford Sound.

The hillsides along our route were dripping with water from recent rains. Parallel streams too small to be called waterfalls poured down the bare rocky faces. There was water everywhere.

Our last stop before Milford was at the Cataract, a rushing stream that thunders through its deeply entrenched bed in the surrounding rock. The twisting rock shapes are a reminder of the power of the rushing water. The plants growing around the cataract were brilliant green.

At the end of the trail is Milford Sound, a settlement consisting of a visitors center, gift shop, short walking trail, and embarkation pier. The Sound itself is a fjord, deep and narrow, running inland from the Tasman Sea to the Milford Sound settlement. The water is dark, dark green, backed by hillsides of dense forest, and sheer vertical cliffs of rock. Snow clings to the upper reaches of the mountains that stretch away from the boat landing. We strolled the trail, watching the birds and the boats coming and going. A small ship on a multi-day tour stood off the pier for a while as smaller ships arrived and departed.

This is a majestic landscape that makes you think about “big” things. The meaning of life, the tiny size of each of us, and our place within nature. It’s a moving place. The reality requires you to create a bit of space for contemplation around yourself as you think about all these interesting things while you stroll. Around you are people walking both ways on the trail speaking all kinds of languages, buses hurry to the pier and back trailing a thin wake of diesel smoke. Looking out over Milford Sound, though, the noise recedes into the background and the majesty of nature takes over.

We left Milford Sound with regret. Not that there was anything more to see, but with the melancholy that comes from turning away from a truly impressive view. We passed the keas at the tunnel entrance, stopped for one more look for the blue duck at Monkey Creek (and saw one!) and continued all the way to Queenstown, two and a half hours down the road. We strolled to the downtown area from our hotel and had fun window-shopping in the drizzle. We ate at the peculiarly-named Botswana Butchery. After dinner we stopped in a leather store and found the red vest I have been looking for (red, natural shearling inside, pockets, made in New Zealand).

On the way back to Shag Point we stopped at Bungy Bridge, something of a family historic site. This is where Lyra went bungee jumping on the spring break of her semester abroad. From the side of an old bridge just off the main highway we watched young people jump into the void and then bounce upside down for a while…

After the bridge, we focused on wineries, stopping at Amisville near Queenstown, and Weaver Estate near Alexandra. Weaver had particularly interesting offerings for people who like white wine, including a Pinot Noir Rose, a faintly orange-tinted pinotgris, as well as other whites, natural “orange” wine, and pinot noir. We enjoyed our visits and bought some wine, ending up back at home at Shag Point before long. We don’t have to worry about driving when it gets dark because the sun doesn’t set until 10:01 pm this week. (The sun rises at 5:15 am but I’m not awake to notice.)