bye bye OZ

What a difference a day makes.  For the first time in three days there’s a hint - just a hint mind you - of brightness in the morning sky. The sky is still dark and broody, but Glyn, Milo and I decide to take a chance and walk.

We head for the marina (cafe) for raisin bread toast and coffee.  There’s a sudden change in the light and the water sparkles.  Mr Blue Sky is back.  

We are very lucky; lucky to have been able to make the trip, lucky to have had such wonderful hosts as G&M and lucky to have this journal to look back on.

Each of us has a legacy of some sort to take from this holiday.  Waltzing with Matilda has encouraged Glyn and Mollymay to explore further what she calls “this camping malarky” by getting their own camper van or caravan and joining the Grey Nomads out in the Bush.

Although I can’t see Anniemay and me towing a caravan, the Sydney Youth Hostel has encouraged us to investigate simpler forms of accommodation for future adventures, rather than rely on hotels as we usually do.

It’s been every bit the adventure we wanted.  

We’ve seen the Bush country, where roads run straight and flat for mile after mile and Road Trains rule; we’ve stood looking out at where the Southern Ocean meets the Indian Ocean; and we’ve wandered through the Southern Forest where the trees grow to over 80m in height.

We’ve seen Australian culture and engineering at its best; Sydney Harbour Bridge, the Opera House, the Art Gallery of New South Wales, The National Gallery of Victoria and the ‘Drive through’ Dogwash.

We’ve heard frogs that sound like banjos (preferable to the other way round); we’ve watched birds flying wild that really should be in a zoo and we’ve seen animals that simply shouldn’t work.

And we’ve experienced Australian hospitality; we’ve sampled the traditional Aussie BBQ with family and friends and dined on Australian Haute Cuisine at the roadside Pie Shop.

Thanks to all those who stopped by to read our journals and share this journey with us.  I’ve been remiss in replying and commenting - but frankly having this much fun is exhausting.  I will catch up when we get home.  Noooo - going home ….


ps; There really is a frog that sounds like a banjo.  Also known as the Pobblebonk or Western  Banjo Frog, Limnodynastes dorsalis