November 6, 2006

Hobart to Melbourne

A very relaxed day indeed, with a 4:30am start and a "dawn tredder" flight.



After the return trip from Hobart to Melbourne, I dropped my bags off at the Metro Youth Hostel and ventured out to see the town. The first stop was right around the corner at the neighborhood pub for lunch. Melbourne still maintains the venerated pub tradition of great drink and more importantly great food at reasonable prices. I had muttonchops with chips (fries) and salad, all for just over $10 Australian. It was truly outstanding and provided the energy for the walk downtown.



The objective was to find gators to replace my now shredded 23 year-old pair, to put some miles into my legs, and enjoy the city. Melbourne is a fantastic city. What Sydney prizes in scenery Melbourne owns in character.

The city has a European flair and is home to Australia’s fashion industry. Two sporting events are twin jewels in the city’s crown, the Australian Tennis Open and the Melbourne Cup Horse Race. It just so happened that today was Melbourne Cup eve spawning many traditions. With great pomp and circumstance horses are paraded down the center of town to a cheering and respectable crowd. The Melbourne Cup is the fashion pinnacle of the year, with gents suited in styles from the very sleek Armani vintage to full cut but tidy English morning jackets and vests. Women wear great gowns and sundresses complete with enormous hats to topple the strongest of stiff necks. The irony of it all is that tomorrow they will be completely “pissed” to quote a local. In spite of all the regalia, and proper appearances the Melbourne Cup is actually closer to a frat party than a Wimbledon match with strawberries and cream. The televised sundress/gown competition is immediately followed by shots of stumbling, sometimes “face planting” in the grass divas. Be careful not to pass cultural judgment, because this is all very respectable and part of the pageantry. Its not race day until one has become undone.

While down town I witnessed something that truly warmed my heart. A Mom and son team were holding signs announcing "Free Hugs". It was truly awesome to watch the response from rushing teens to a septigenarian inching his way across the square one cane stride at a time to eventually and determinedly gain a hug. I could do an entire post on these pictures alone. (If Raeleans can give free hugs, maybe we each could reach out a little more.)







After watching the sun set from the roof of the hostel, I ventured back out to my lunchtime pub for a follow-up great dinner. The place was absolutely packed with 18-20 year old kids having some sort of extreme mountain biking party (kind of a non sequiter in the rolling flatlands known as Australia). A table opened up near the bar and separated from the dining room activity, so I moved quickly to arrive at the same time as a family of three (Two college kids and their Mom). What to do? No worries, this is Australia, share. We had a great time together and ended up closing the place down after the extreme kids called it a night.

November 5, 2006

South Coast Track to Hobart

What an amazing evening and morning, alone on the sand dunes. First thing in the morning I woke to walk the shore. Stunning continues to be the theme.



Much to my surprise, a family appeared around the edge of the beach. They had camped a mere quarter of a mile away from my site. The official campsite was completely unmarked. As it turns out, I was not entirely alone but was only hundreds of meters away from a very friends crew of campers.

Feeling energized by meeting other humans, I walked back to my tent to pack things up and hit the trail. As I approached the tent a very thick black snake slithered from the entrance area. It looked like a “rat snake” to me and made its way along and back into the undergrowth. (Later I would find out that this was a Tiger Snake, one of the most aggressive and deadly in Tasmania. One bite and there would have been no hope of recovery in such an isolated area.)



The return hike proved to be just as challenging as the previous days journey. Mud at times was well up my shinbone. I’m sorry to report that the hiking gators that Marc gave me on my sixteenth birthday perished along the way. The old zippers couldn’t take the tugging pressure of the mud.



The Southern Hemisphere certainly knows how to put on an atmospheric show. I’ve seen stratus clouds all over the world, but never have I witnessed them being formed. Right before my eyes was a locomotive of corrugated vapor being pulled from a cirrus cloud by an Antarctic stream of air. These clouds were literally flying by as they were ripped from their previous mass. Call me a dork but this was incredible!





It was a pleasure to catch up with the Tasmanian family, with their 20-ish son and his girlfriend. It turns out that this heavy-duty journey was the second indoctrination into the world of trekking for this hopeful new member of the family. She hid her tears well and really was a great sport about the whole adventure. Talk about trial by fire!

Finishing the trek together, I received my first Aussie accolade of “Good on ya, Paul”. Then when exchanging our good-byes I actually received a “Very good on ya” complete with frame rattling handshake.

November 4, 2006

Hobart to Cockle Creek & South Coast Track

I love that Tasmania provides so much to accomplish within a single day.

Leaving the bay of Hobart by climbing over the protective coastal range gave and expansive view of this port city.



Today the southern tip of Tasmania and the Hastings Cave site, who's above terrain parkland is home to a platypus population, was my target. One of the great surprises of the Tasmanian Park system is the great inexpensive food and the Hastings Cave Park was no exception. Check of this great lunch of Turkey and mango/cranberry chutney toasted pannini with fresh salad, for the equivalent of about $3.50 US. (Thank goodness the $10 US National Park Service hotdog hasn't reached Australia.)



Traveling at the fringe of tourist season has great benefits; among them our tour through the cave system only consisted of six tourists and a guide. Two of the group were elementary aged boys, so the guide had good fun amazing their imaginations with the wilds of cave living, such as the spiders here are so ancient that they build horizontal webs for catching falling prey rather than vertical traps for flying insects.







After our spelunking adventure I walked the platypus trail, but missed out on seeing an actual creature. These animal wonders tend to feed at dust and dawn, providing the best opportunity for a sighting. Of course, I happened to be in the nature preserve during the early afternoon.



The Hyundai Gehts, despite its small size and seeming three-cylinder engine, cruised along the corrugated dirt roads to the trailhead for the South Coast Track. By this time, there were just a couple of hours of daylight left and I was going to need every moment.



As it turns out, I was one of the first trekkers to tackle the South Coast Trail for this season. It started out well marked and easily followed. Then the fun began. Leaving the car park the trail leads though reasonably muddy tracks. This opens up into a vast bog, with boardwalks across what would be an exhaustingly sloppy hike otherwise. After re-entering the woods the trail is nice and easily wide enough for two.



The first major vista is breathtaking. The dense forest opens onto a stone sea cliff. From here the southern most tip of Australia/Tasmania is visible and the trail soon becomes invisibly wide as it is literally the beach. Walking along the rocks and sand there was an ominous feeling as a clear horizon line was not visible due to the huge sets of waves rolling in.





One more extremely muddy climb (as in over the boots and up the shins), complete with waist high fallen trees to scamper over, and I descended onto a beautiful huge beach as its lone occupant.





The map suggested that there was an official campsite but I couldn’t find it. So I trudged up the sand dune to avoid any expectantly large tide, given the full moon, and pitched my tent for the evening. Completely unconditioned to the native animal sounds and combined with the constant tremors of sand pounding surf made for a reasonable collection of catnaps.

Everest to India

Hello All,

After a great trip up the Himalaya's to about 18,200 ft., India is home for the next week while I am recovering from the flu.


This is a picture of Everest in the background from the vantage point of Kala Patthar at about -40C with wind chill. (Quick, take the picture so I can cover any exposed skin before it instantly freezes.)

I hope that you all are well and looking forward to some catch-up work on the blog.

Cheers,
Paul

Everest Publishing Break

Hello Family and Friends,

Tomorrow morning at 6:00am we take off for Lukla to begin an 18 day trek on Mt. Everest. Thus far Kathmandu and Nepal have been a wonderful experience. The people have a genuine sense of hospitality that has been noticably missing from the last two weeks in SE Asia.

My guide is a local mountain climber with a great sense of humor. We went on a tune-up hike today that was filled with explanations of the trek to come and many, many laughs. One of the highlights will be a view of his village on the way to base camp. His relaxing demeanor is quite a relief as we will be spending most of the next 18 days alone together. To date, we will constitute the only expedition on the mountain, which will be an exciting experience.

Since the art of attaching satelite dishes to alpine yacks has not been perfected in Nepal, I will be out of contact until the end of January. My hope is to do some serious "catching up" on the blog in India. The verbiage is written in real time at the end of most days. However, the continued challenge is finding hi-speed internet connections to share the pictures with you. On average, it takes a little over an hour to publish a single day. So, please bare with me. Once hi-speed is found I will dedicate a day to catching up in droves.

Wishing you all an amazing January!

See you on the other side,
Cheers,
Paul

November 3, 2006

Hobart (Cadbury Chocolate, the Seaside, and Port Arthur)

I definitely earned my “tourist license” today! My car was ready at the airport at 6:30am, so that a forty-five minute drive to the Cadbury Chocolate factory could be made with enough time to make the 8:00am tour. This little Hyundai could fly and it was especially fun to shift left handed while driving on the opposite side of the road.



The tour was fairly pedestrian, but watching production in action has always fascinated. The amazing bit is how much human labor goes into making these chocolate candies. I felt guilty calculating the possible automation savings. (Damn that Del Monte training…haaa.)





After the tour, the seaside and Port Arthur was the target. There are so many natural wonders in Australia, and Tasmania in particular. First on the agenda was the Tessellated Pavement, which is a naturally occurring erosion event that leaves loaves of free standing bricklike rock.





Blowholes in various stages of development line the coast. Some have fully formed and then collapsed to form “kitchens”, while others still spout sea spray when the seas are rough. Generally, geologically what happens is that the rock shoreline is eroded into sea caves, which then eventually develop holes in the ceiling.



When the waves crash into the cave, this forces water through the holes in the ceiling forming blowholes. Eventually, the ceiling collapses, leaving either an arch in the front of the cave or a completely collapsed sea trench of sorts. The timing of these events is millennial in scale so not immediate worries while viewing or walking across the cave roofs or arches.



Port Arthur is a former penal colony of the British Empire settled in an absolutely picturesque cove. Thankfully, it is tactfully maintained without turning the area into a Disney event. There is so much to learn from this isolated historical site.





Of greatest interest or marvel is that Port Arthur Penal Institution was the first to implement the concept of “solitary confinement”. The colonial instilment was far different than what is implemented today, but this is still the genesis of the punishment. The ideal was that when man is left with his own inklings and given constructive solitary tasks to complete, he would naturally shed his evil tendency and through self immolation adopt a reformed disposition. So, as prisoners were indoctrinated into this reform system, solitary confinement was the first step in their scheduled reform. This was even taken to the extreme that when attending services each individual had a personal walled box, which allowed viewing of the parson but no one else.



Structurally, Port Arthur is magnificent. As efforts are underway to reconstruct what is not naturally understood, e.g. reestablishing lapsed gardens vs. rebuilding the church that in its hollow burned skeleton is still understood, the prison colony comes to life. It is a shame that so much of the colony fell victim to inadvertent brush fires or seemingly preventable events such as someone burning leaves that then caught the church on fire.

November 2, 2006

Phillip Island to Hobart

A reasonably early start to the morning, so that we wouldn’t have to be too rushed in getting me to the airport for the flight to Tasmania, was the plan. No one informed the weather. It started to rain and then pour during rush hour traffic. The hour and a half cruise on the way down to Phillip Island had turned into an easly four-hour return trip affair. Adding the rental car return, complete with panic refuel near the airport, prior to catching the flight stretched my developing sense of relaxation. Thankfully, Monica was a great sport and took an airport shuttle back to the hostel in Melbourne, else the flight to Hobart would have had an extra empty seat.

The trip to Hobart is a short jump from Melbourne with just enough time for a Coke before landing. Everything about the Hobart area seems reminisant of the past while embracing the future. This gives the community a European persona, rich with nautical history. Hobart is definitely a town that invites wandering the old township and wharfs.









I loved walking up the gridded streets and looking to the horizon catching two sail boats on perfect tack. They were finishing the final leg of an evening race.



No visit would be complete without a visit to Flippers for the mixed bag of fried seafood, from squid rings and seafood balls, to the fresh catch of the day. For roughly ten Australian dollars, including soda, you can’t go wrong with this feast.