Tag Archives: Landscape

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

Posted by in Australia

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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

Posted by in Australia

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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

Posted by in New Zealand

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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.)

 

On the Edge of a Cliff at Shag Point

04 Tuesday Dec 2018

Posted by in New Zealand

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Pulling up at our new house on Shag Point there wasn’t much to see. A thick screen of trees and bushes separates the house from the road. Enter the gate and it all changes. The house overlooks the ocean, with lovely small gardens tucked in on either side. Bushes, potted plants and sculpture are combined with short paths and hidden table and chairs to create intriguing spaces for sitting and looking out across the waves. We face northeast with a view up the coast and out over the Pacific, called the Canterbury Bight. Looking over the edge of the cliff, we spotted a spherical boulder eroding out of the shore, part of the deposits extending over 15 km from here to the opposite side of the bay. There the Moeraki Boulders are one of the tourist sites of this region. We have a few in our yard, along with a limestone bathing beauty hiding in the bushes.

Inside, the house is open plan with glass surrounding all the living areas. It makes the most of the sun and doors slide open if it gets too warm. A tiny wood stove builds up enough heat to take the chill off when there’s a drizzle at night or early in the day.

The spectacular view and glass walls brings the outdoors inside. It’s a stunning location. Our only problem may be leaving home to go anywhere. I did find the somewhat hidden path to the shore below us yesterday. I was just getting comfortable walking around on the rocks when a big “Whuff!” scared the wind out of me. A sea lion was resting a few yards away, and wasn’t interested in my company. I gave him/her their space and decided to visit another day when my breathing returns to normal.

North Island Highlights

02 Sunday Dec 2018

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This week we moved from the North Island of New Zealand to the South. During the past month we walked on beaches, collected glass, shells, and driftwood, drank coffee at a wonderful local cafe, visited museums and wineries, strolled in parks and botanical gardens, climbed hills, and watched birds. Every day held vivid and memorable scenes. Rather than a list of where we were and what we did, here are some of my impressions.

The forest here is many shades of deep green, and dense. The first people to arrive here, both Maori and then European, must have felt an oppressive challenge. Not enough to arrive on shore, newcomers had to make a dent in that dark wall.

Despite vast changes in the landscape over time, nature remains a watchword to Kiwis (New Zealanders). It’s not all birdwatching.

Nature is a visible presence, even in the large cities. Seagulls complain as boats moored along city sidewalks rise and fall. Yet the people are equally important. We see personal statements, like the pink stump on Te Horo Beach.

In Te Horo Beach, the Bus Stop Cafe is the community center and general landmark, open Friday through Sunday. Kirstie’s famous jam and cream donuts seem to get a lot of neighbors out of bed on the weekend. Kirstie also sells hand made goods by local artisans. When I was at the eye doctor in Wellington, chatting about our stay in New Zealand and mentioned Te Horo, Dr. Long said, “Be sure and stop by the Bus Stop Cafe and say hello to Kirstie for me.” Turns out, Dr. Long spins and dyes wool that Kirstie carries. (And yes, she’s also an opthalmologist and retina specialist.) It’s a small country and everyone multitasks.

On a visit to Scorching Beach, Wellington, we saw a cafe with all-out abalone decoration.

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We admired the range of beaches. Some bloomed with flowers, others were covered with driftwood. Some were ready for surfers, and others were on estuaries that became vast tide flats during low tide. We found intriguing patterns and textures. Some beach finds  became part of the decor around our house.

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We found many things to like in the cities. Museums, botanical gardens, street life, and good restaurants. For us, the appeal of the coast and the bush far outweighs the allure of city life.

We gravitated to parks like Zealandia, or the Wellington Botanical Garden, where there were flowers and sculpture at every turn.

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We have enjoyed every minute on the North Island. Off to the South!

Salar de Uyuni

21 Saturday Apr 2018

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We drove from Sucre to Colchani, a settlement near the Uyuni salt flats/Salar de Uyuni. We stayed at the Palacio de Sal, a hotel made with a lot of salt mined nearby.The domed ceiling of our room was made of blocks of salt  We went on a day-long tour of the area around Colchani with a driver, Orlando, and guide, Edson. What started as a lark proved to be a rare experience. The Salar de Uyuni is the world’s largest salt flats (110 x 90 km), approximately 120 m deep. As you drive out into the salar, the surface turns from slushy gray to bright white. You lose all sense of perspective because there are no objects in the background–it’s all white. It’s a very weird environment, and the white all around you flattens perspective until you look like cutouts on a plain background. We had lunch all by ourselves in the middle of the salt flats, feeling akin to extras in a Fellini movie.

Like traveling in the desert, you need a driver who knows his way on invisible roads. Orlando claimed to use the hills and mountains in the distance to check his location. At one point we drove for more than an hour across the salt (no road) without reaching the edge of the salar.  The salt is mined for consumption within Bolivia but not exported. From a distance the salt looks like snow on the ground. It looks a bit like that up close, too. Where the salt has been scraped from the hard surface, you can see a network of hexagonal cracks. Underneath the salt, water bubbles up. The boiling water looks like it would be hot, but it is ice cold and very salty. Salt crystals form inside these bubbling holes (called ojos/eyes). Edson reached into one and pulled out a clump of crystalline salt. During the rainy season, runoff from rivers turns the salar into a shallow lake. The water can be up to a meter deep, and vehicles avoid the deep spots during those months (Dec.-Feb). We visited Isla Incahuasi in the middle of the salar, home to several species of birds and lots of cactus. It’s completely surrounded by salt.

We stopped at what looked like a ski lodge, the site of the first “Palacio de Sal” hotel that was almost completely made of salt. It was moved when the pollution from the hotel (water, trash, sewer) made it clear that building out on the salar itself wasn’t a good idea. The ruins of the hotel are now a lively way station on the largely featureless salar.

When there is shallow water over the salt, up to about 2 cm, it’s possible to see exact reflections in the water. The rainy season is over, but we found a patch that was still reflecting.

We ended the day watching the sun set over the salar with glasses of Bolivian wine (Campos de Solana). We’d never heard of Bolivian wine, so it was a pleasant surprise and capped a truly remarkable day.

There are tours that last 2-10 days and circle southwest Bolivia, visiting farflung corners of the salar, unusual stone formations, lakes of different colors, remnant volcanoes and archaeological sites. Our day trip was wonderful, but there is much more that can be seen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Other Side of Travel in Peru

25 Sunday Mar 2018

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As we drove north, we saw the side of Peru away from the beaches and national treasures. This part is a desert without water, except when the rivers flood. It’s where last year’s El Nino peeled off miles of pavement still awaiting repairs, and the problem no one can escape–waste. Along the highways from Lima to the far north garbage along the roadside is proportional to population. Most roads are lined with garbage ranging from scraps of plastic bag clinging to plant stems, pale flags waving in the wind. Moguls of construction debris border the dunes.

It is frustrating to visit world renowned archaeological sites and gorgeous beaches that feel like oases in a countryside splotched everywhere with trash. How can we convince people to visit us when one neighbor says she now finds it depressing to drive from Lima to Barranca because of the miles of shacks and garbage? And she lives here.Peruvians may produce less garbage per capita than other countries, yet for lack of systems to dispose of waste, much of it ends up along the highway. There is not much investment in landfills or equipment to keep them sanitary. Local officials appear to prefer dumping waste behind a sand dune to organizing garbage disposal. There’s no glamor in cleanup. What happened to “cleanliness is next to godliness?” We all lost our faith. Driving north, the car in front of us opened a window and threw out a whole coconut that they’d finished drinking. They didn’t even slow down. We followed a trucker peeling a tangerine as every few seconds another piece of peel flew out the window.

How can we ask people to keep their trash in their car if the roadside is covered with garbage bags, water bottles and diapers?  There are lots of people who need better sanitation, and the evidence is along the roadside.

Heading North

17 Saturday Mar 2018

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We decided to visit northern Peru, and headed for Playa Los Organos, on the coast between Piura and Tumbes, stopping for two nights on the way. The first day was familiar territory where we passed familiar archaeological sites. Just north of our home in Barranca is the Fortaleza de Paramonga, southernmost outpost of the Chimu empire. The Chimu are not as well known as the Inca, because in the great battle between opposing empires in 1470, the Chimu lost, and as we all know, the victors write history.

Just outside the Casma Valley is Chankillo, a fortress and ancient observatory built around the 4th c. BC where 13 small towers align with the annual movement of the rising and setting sun. Cerro Sechin is nearby, its main structure lined with carvings of warriors and victims. More sites line each valley until you arrive in the Moche Valley home to two of the great ancient societies of ancient Peru, the Moche and the Chimu. The Huaca de la Luna is the iconic capital of the Moche, who controlled this region from about 100-700 AD. They built vast adobe brick pyramids with brightly colored figures painted on each tier. Its twin, the Huaca del Sol, was mined for the gold in tombs by the first Spanish explorers, by diverting the Moche river to wash away the adobe. Fortunately for us, they left a portion for us. The site museum, completed just a few years ago, displays the trappings of Moche power. Burials found within the pyramid were dressed in wide beaded collars, gold crowns and masks, surrounded by pottery molded into plants, animals, and people, or painted with detailed scenes of ceremony and battle. It is fantastic.

Before leaving town you have to visit the other great empire of the Chimu at one of the royal enclosures of Chan Chan. Each ruler built a new palace, a huge enclosure of adobe with walls more than 15 feet high, sculpted with figures of fish, pelicans and other creatures. Within each royal enclosure was everything the ruler needed, meeting rooms, living space, even a reservoir dug into the water table to provide water. Chimu elite were buried with masks of gold and elaborate pottery. The scale of these buildings is what’s most impressive, and the range of shapes sculpted into the adobe. The Chimu empire developed around 900 AD and died out after the defeat by the Inca in 1470.

When we stop in this area we always stay at the Hotel Bracamonte in Huanchaco. It is on the beach outside Trujillo and a relaxing stop after a day of visiting archaeological sites. It has a lovely garden by the dining area that you can enjoy while having breakfast. The fruit, yogurt and granola combo is always my choice. Our only mistake this trip was failing to enjoy one of the excellent restaurants in Huanchao for seafood at lunch time. When we went out in the evening for dinner, most places were closed and we ended up eating cake and ice cream for dinner. We won’t let that happen again.

The next morning we headed into new territory. We’ve driven as far north as Chiclayo to see the Museo Tumbes Reales de Sipan, where the golden burial of the “Senor de Sipan” is displayed. This is one of the most elaborate tombs we’ve ever seen. The tomb was found by grave-robbers, taken over by archaeologists who had to camp at the mouth of the tomb and patrol 24/7 until the Peruvian government acted to protect the treasure. The hero of the story is Peruvian archaeologist Walter Alva, who spearheaded the site protection and stuck with the site until the museum was built about ten years later. There are fantastic objects in the museum including  beads on a burial necklace shaped like peanuts made of gold and silver. The site where the tomb was discovered, Huaca Rajada, is also worth a visit. Late Moche tombs like Sipan though not quite as large are still being uncovered periodically. A site museum is usually built for each one, like the Senora de Cao. Once you’ve seen the Sipan museum, though, you’re spoiled by the amazing wealth on display and none of the others is quite as rich.

Beyond Chiclayo was new territory for us. There are many other sites along the way, though for us it was a case of so many sites/so little time. We passed Pampa Grande, where Jonathan excavated for part of his dissertation research, Bataan Grande, Tucume, and many others as we drove toward Piura. It took all day to get there with only a stop for gas. The landscape turned dry, and we saw more of the damage done by the 2016/2017 El Nino. Sections of road are washed out and rebuilding is underway but not completed. River basins are scoured out and though you cannot tell from the road, thousands of people still need new housing.

In Piura we stopped at an oasis, the Casa Andina Premium Hotel. Our room had air conditioning, the pool was a great contrast to the heat that was building all day long. We went out for dinner to Tayanti, a restaurant near the hotel with many positive reviews. We had delicious cocktails but found that the menu included only two “fish.” Fish of the day was conger eel, a soft white fish that is the cheapest in the market. Neither of us like it much. The other choice was salmon imported from Chile. We finished our drinks and went to the opposite side of the courtyard to Tao, where we ordered sushi that proved to be delicious with neither conger or salmon involved. We returned to our air conditioned oasis for the night.

 

Off the beaten path at Lough Melvin

07 Monday Aug 2017

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We set out on a loop from Bundoran to Manorhamilton, on to Rosinver, then back to Bundoran. We started with the farmers market in Manorhamilton that turned out to be very, very small. After buying a few things, we went in search of a ring fort and we found a site, but it wasn’t the one we were looking for.  Having mostly struck out, we saw a small hand painted sign at the start of the last leg of the drive that said “Scenic Drive” and so we turned that way. The map showed a route between a bog and a lake, possibly a good spot for some birdwatching.The road turned out to be a narrow lane, where the plants brush against both sides of the car. The bog was either on the side of or over the top of the mountain and we were on a hiillside far above the lake, Lough Melvin. The sun was out and the view was gorgeous over blue water and islands, with Bundoran and the sea in the far distance. It could not have been lovelier. We picnicked and looked out over the lake with our binoculars and realized there was NO ONE on the lake from one end to the other. It’s a Friday afternoon of a national holiday weekend (August Bank Holiday) in a popular tourist area and not one single person was on Lough Melvin. We decided to go down to the edge of the Lough. We found a perfect place, a tiny rowboat harbor and boat launch ramp. No one was there, despite the boats. We strolled along the shore and were met by three horses and a pony checking to see whether they knew us. After they trotted off, we walked the edge of the lough, which is pebbly and rocky. You’d need water shoes, but the water is warmer than the ocean.  Perhaps with the ocean so near, no one bothers with the Lough except to fish. In the US, there would be a giant development somewhere along the lake. As we walked along the shore, we found fragments of glass and pottery that had been tumbled in the water. It was some of our best beach combing, and there was no beach.

After our long stroll marveling at the absence of people, the bright sunny day, great sights and finds, we headed for home, and saw an animal cross the road. Almost as dark as a black cat but with a weasel head. It may have been a pine marten. Another rarity capping a rare day.