December 28, 2006

Trip to USA

Trip to USA

The trip back to the US from the US is long and far. Quantas provides over 10,000 frequent flier kilometers the trip from Aukland to Los Angeles. Nearly 12 hours in the air. Fortunately, the plane isn’t full and we spread out. Emily and Rebecca sleep most of the night. I sleep some, watch Brokeback Mountain (which isn’t much of a movie on a tiny back of the seat screen with muffled almost unintelligible soundtrack) and complete my South Seas adventure watching a movie about traditional swampland Aboriginal culture. I learn more about the concept of payback, which I heard about in Alice Springs, where while we were there, the hospital had a security shutdown because of threats of a payback visit. Eye for an eye, life for a life is taken literally.

Our entry into LAX includes a framed photo of GW Bush as we enter passport control. I don’t remember seeing this on arrival to the US previously. It is also obvious in a number of ways that the US international airports are not nearly as visitor friendly as other countries.

Although I am exhausted from nearly 24 hours of travel since leaving the hotel in Christchurch, we make our way to rental cars and on to San Diego to visit my mother, get re-oriented to the US and avoid freezing weather for another week.


Christchurch

Christchurch

Our final overseas city (not counting our connection in Aukland on the way to LAX). The drive from Dunedin was reported to be uninteresting, but that is an understatement. Our other drives have at least had some hills or views. The road follows the coast but it is not visible. Rain slows us down. We stop at one of the few sights, some boulders on the beach that are not what they appear (round stones about 6 feet in diameter somehow washed up on shore and eroded to this shape) but actually stones that were always round, were embedded in the cliffs near shore. It is the surrounding softer stone that has eroded. We don’t bother going down to the beach to get a closer look, as it continues to be cold and rainy.

The day we leave, Christmas Eve, Christchurch looks pretty, but we don’t appreciate it for the several prior days of wanderings. The coldest and wettest December in NZ in recorded history, we read in the paper. This, after the hottest and driest November we witnessed in Australia. I am informed that it has to do with some sort of wind pattern over the Chathams, keeping southern cold air over NZ and preventing such wind from going further north, but I have learned that a fair amount of commentary provided by even expert locals is misinformation.

We stay in a converted old government building in the heart of downtown, right next to the Anglican cathedral. The two story lofted suite, is impressive, but the 15 foot high ceiling in the main room and space heater limit our comfort as we move up- or downstairs. After staying in historic hotels, modern hotel apartments, B & Bs, a village homestay and camping over the past weeks, I have concluded there are no certainties. Fun can be had in all, but a comfortable bed, good linens, and controllable temperature are things I won’t take for granted for some time.

The TranzAlpine rail trip was to be a highlight of this stay, but we opt to skip it given the weather. The scenery is reported most dramatic from the outdoor car of the train, but it is uncomfortable just walking around the city in the cold rain. We get a feel of the central city in our wanderings. Even more than Dunedin, it feels like a downscale neighborhood where Joyce and I lived in Chicago (Lincoln Park) of the 70s or 80s. Numerous tattoo parlors, lots of store front restaurants (about ½ Asian), for some unexplained reason - several costume shops. The arts area, a re-use of University of Canterberry buildings, has interesting shops and we spend a successful day shopping for ourselves and others.

Mostly, we eat and relax. We rent a touching movie set in the 1950s about the relationship between a young girl and an elderly Maori woman. Think of a New Zealand “Karate Kid� designed to overcome stereotypes and give a little history lesson. We also splurge on a last NZ meal at a highly rated restaurant. By far the most tender, sweetest lamb I have ever had. We are told by our waiter (transplanted from Seattle) that he helped work at the farm, owned by the restauranteur, where the lamb is raised.

People we meet at the hotel, in restaurants, and elsewhere have been nicer since we left Queenstown. Most likely, we encountered transient foreigners there and in Aukland, where we ran into some rather surly people.

As I finish the 17 day tour across 7 communities in NZ, I observe the scenery from the plane to across the country from Christchurch to Aukland, and finish a book on the history of the country, I cannot easily describe it in comparison to anywhere else I have been. As diverse in topography as California, but abundant in water. Ten times as many sheep as people, ecologically and geologically fragile. A diverse, currently but not historically tolerant, population. Provincial appearing but cutting edge in current environmental politics. The cities remind me of Minneapolis of my childhood, when the Foshay tower was our tallest building and when downtown was where everyone shopped. The rolling countryside has been mostly converted to sheep pastures, so is mostly green with rare rows of planted trees. The large conservation areas and national parks have some of the most beautiful scenery anywhere, but we know that the bird life has been decimated by introduced mammals (of which there were none 1000 years ago). The harbors and coastline are a sailor’s paradise.

Overall, New Zealand is a most pleasant place to either visit or live (only one of which is usually true).


December 24, 2006

Dunedin

Dunedin

The drives always take longer than expected, given that I won’t go 60 miles per hour on two lane, unshouldered, winding roads and we have to stop for food regularly. The roads are like we had in the US before the Interstates, passing through the middle of each little town. We can almost always find a reasonable diner-like restaurant in all but the smallest towns. Occasionally with settle for McDonalds, found in the larger ones. Like everywhere, there is usually one or more authentic Chinese restaurants if there is fast food.

Dunedin is the Scottish NZ town, settled originally by a group of Scots in the mid-1800’s. It became prosperous after a brief gold rush in the 1860’s, with a significant number of buildings dating to that period. I can’t think of many comparable US cities – about 120,000 people in a regional hub city, with the University of Otega enrolling over 20,000 of that number. Maybe a cross between Helena, Montana and Madison, Wisconsin. Downtown is the shopping center (no suburban malls if there is a bicycle store downtown). In fact, it doesn’t look like there is a building built in the past 20 years. Our hotel is an old building being updated as I speak. (Unfortunately, the workmen started earlier in the morning than we would have liked). In general, it feels like Minneapolis did when I was growing up, when Foshay Tower was our skyscraper and before the Southdale became an international model.

I have the privilege of visiting with a geriatrician at the local hospital/medical school and attending rounds and journal club. Geriatrics is almost the opposite of the US – it is a hospital based and consultation specialty rather than focusing on primary care/long term care settings as we do in the US. Financing systems determines such differences, I believe.

We visit NZ’s Candbury Candy factory. A little bit hokey tour. I am impressed with the contrast between a very old building and many seemingly labor intensive, inefficient processes while noting very stringent electronic key card security and ubiquitous safety instructions and warnings. It appears they are attentive to their over 800 workers.

We also visit the Otega Peninsula, home to the very rare Albatross and Yellow-Eyed Penguin. We take the 1+ hour drive to the end of the road, where I watch the albatross soar effortlessly, despite their huge size. They are apparently the largest flying birds in the world and can only get aloft with the help of a good breeze. I enjoy most of this alone, while Rebecca calls a friend from home and Joyce and Emily have a snack. I do agree with them that bird watching must be an acquired taste, as I found even a brief glance at a wild echidna more exciting.

We then meet our host, Sam, for a 4 WD tour to see NZ fur seals and penguins. We pack into his Land Rover with another family and a third couple for a most uncomfortable ride along rocky paths (you can’t call them roads) across his vast sheep farm. Sam grew up here and he and several other families have acquired all the farm land on this peninsula, as the returning WW II veterans who were allotted 100 acre plots by the government sold out their unsustainable pasturelands. Mostly, I am awed by the views from the hilltops, which range from the bay and city to the West to the rugged ocean and bird-covered islands in almost all other directions. Like most of NZ, the soil is only good enough for sheep farming, and Sam has thousands, grown mostly for lamb meat. (Wool isn’t worth much anymore, we are informed). We see a few seals and then move on to the penguins. These are very rare and highly protected, with Sam’s property line ending a few hundred feet from the beaches, where we watch the a half dozen penguins march up to their nests, where eggs are due to hatch in a few weeks. They waddle just as I have seen at the zoo, but remarkably far and up hills into the weeds and bushes, to try to protect their offspring from the non-native possums, stoats, and rats.

The energy and enthusiasm (or maybe financial necessity) associated with sheep farming continues to surprise me. Sam and his wife not only manage raising thousands of sheep, he runs this adventure tour every evening and she runs a Bed and Breakfast on their property. It puts my modest attempt to balance my University related jobs and my very part-time software business to shame. Maybe the beauty of the landscapes they enjoys provides the necessary fuel.

Thus we can add another endangered species to our list of wildlife seen on this, our Down Under safari.

Te Anua

Te Anua

After returning from our Doubtful Sound Cruise, we only had one afternoon to spend in Te Anua before heading to our next destination, Dunedin. The most famous Milford Track was too far, so we settled for a day hike on the Kepler Track. It starts out on the other side of the lake from Te Anua, at the river that connect this lake to Montepouri’s (so said the kayaker headed that way that we met at the parking lot.

For the first 90 minutes, the distance we covered each way, the broad and well tread path parallels the lake shore as it passes through the fully shaded old-growth beech forest. The weather was perfect (for a change) for the hike, almost swimming weather (but the water was too cold) at the sandy/rocky beach we passed. There is a noticeable difference walking through such an old forest compared to Eloise Butler or even the Boundary Waters, both of which are relatively young regrowth/planted forests. The Kepler track is filled with a canopy even denser than we say in the Daintree tropical rainforest. The ground is almost completely shaded, allowing mostly ferns to spread easily to create a lush undergrowth. It would have been pristine except for the intermittent intrusion of the internal combustion engines of a ski boat on the lake and sightseeing planes and helicopters overhead. Just a little further down the Track, we would have moved up into the ridges above the lake to reach the first overnight hut along a 5 day hiking loop. Maybe next time.

Te Anua is a tidy little tourist town, the last stop on the road to Milford Sound. We stayed at a private home/B & B in town. Not up to the hotel standards we had become accustomed and our hosts entertained friends (excluding us) after we returned from a mediocre Chinese dinner. After the early start on the cruise boat and the afternoon hike, we were ready to go to sleep by the time the party broke up at 10. Our hosts had been sheep farmers and we heard the rest of the story of the collapse of the meat market our previous B&B host had been involved with in some way. Apparently one of the large purchasers of sheep and lambs accepted delivery of the results of a year’s work of a large number of farmers and then, after shutting the gates of the yard (and taking legal ownership of the livestock), declared bankruptcy. The British banks were secured creditors and the farmers were left with nothing for their labors. Clearly some hard feelings left, based upon the expressions on our hosts faces when we asked about this.

Before leaving town, we went to the 9 AM showing at the small, but luxurious, movie theater built to showcase a documentary of scenes from Fjordland, mostly taken by a local helicopter pilot. Amazing scenery. It made me think about all the people we had recently met who get to do fun stuff in beautiful settings every day (the helicopter pilot, our rafting guides, the people who take tourists parasailing, the crew of the Doubtful Sound cruise boat on so on). I was also again impressed by the “can do it� spirit or New Zealanders. The movie was made, but their was no venue to show it – so the helicopter pilot built the theater which plays his work over 10 times per day (with feature films in the evenings).

December 23, 2006

New Zealand - Joyce's view

Joyce’s perspective: Cambridge New Zealand “Farm Stay�……… Beautiful town with rolling pastures, so many sheep and lambs and some cattle. In New Zealand there are 40 million sheep and 4 million people. (I am sounding like Eddie, but I will end there with the facts). I understand why people join PETA!!!! They are so precious. Sadly, when the lambs are removed from their mothers to go to become lamb chops the mothers cry all night. We drive though this area to get to our farm stay and see these beautiful homes sitting on beautiful land with gorgeous gardens. Our hosts, Gayle and Bill McMillan were the most delightful, nicest people. She is there to welcome us into her beautiful home. Rebecca is ecstatic as she has her much deserved own room as she often is fast asleep far beyond Emily is. We learn that Gayle was an opera singer and is a pianist. She now gives piano lessons. Emily plays Mahler for her. She and her husband both come from farm families. In their 50’s they decide to farm after having other vocations. Talk about midlife changes!!!!!!!!! Gayle takes us to their farm where we see how sheep our sheared. Not like the sweet pictures you see. The sheep is put on it’s back and it kicks. Well, it was kind of like my kids with their first haircuts. We look around town and see this place called “Home Kills� and we all take guesses that it is an exterminating, pest control place. Ed and Rebecca look in the window and Rebecca comes back wretching. It turns out that is a service where they come out to your farm and slaughter your animals for you and bring it back to this place to hang. Thank Goodness for Golden Valley Square with it’s caribou, starbucks, Damico and Sons. We go with Gayle to their farm. We get on this ATV, with Ed and I hanging onto the sides barely and Rebecca and Emily in this trailer with the sheep dog. One dog just has to eye the sheeps and does not bark to gather them in. The other sheep dog barks and chases them. What a thrill ride, with our opera singer at the gears of this vehicle going up and down steep terrain. We get out on top of this hill and a goat befriends us, most interested in eating Ed’s camera case. A cow looks like it is coming to charge at us and sheep and their poop are all around us.What a sight and a laugh. There is a serenity overlooking these green hills (where there isn’t the sheep poop) and I think about the quote about lying down in green pastures and G-d as my shepard. Babbling brooks, trees blowing in the wind, beautiful green. We all loved our experience here. Gayle played a beautiful classical piece for us when we got back and before we left she sang us a Maori song. What a wonderful person. I would love to be friends with her if we lived near each other!

Doubtful Sound Cruise: Beautiful scenery on the cruise. Mountains, water, greenery, birds flying overhead. Rainy during evening so we play some family games. Ed beats us at Scrabble and Rebecca is a Boggle champion. Great dinner. Go to bed. Calm on the waters. Best part was the sound of silence for 10 minutes as Ed described. Hmmmmmmm, I think this should be part of everyone’s day.


Te Anau………. We drive to Te Anau after our Doubtful Sound Cruise. We will be leaving tomorrow for Dunedin. We stay at a bed and breakfast where the couple have some friends over for drinks so we are relegated to our bedrooms. We can’t go to sleep till they leave as they are quite loud. Weird, anyone can have a bed and breakfast. No Ed we are not turning our house into one when the kids leave. We will just get more dogs.

Dunedin……. Not a very attractive city. Looks like the 1970’s. Sheila and Jan, we pass a building that houses Soka Gakkai New Zealand!! Ed goes in and looks around. Ed meets with a doctor and we sleep in. The highlight of this trip was going to the Cadbury chocolate factory!!!!!!!! In one bar there is a cup and a half of cream. I get my smells, we get samples. Smelling the chocolate is great aromatherapy. Next day we go to Otago peninsula which is stunning. We see yellow eye penguins. So cute, sorry Sally. (I miss her)

Christchurch…….. The last city in our journey. Looks like Canterbury in England. Walked through the art centre which was fun. Rebecca and I saw Guys and Dolls. What fun, the cast was great and their N.Y. dialect was perfect. Who would have thought.
It is soon time to come home to friends and family in America!


Doubtful Sound

Although the most famous part of Fjordland is Milford Sound, we opted for the larger, less crowded Doubtful Sound for our adventure. Several hours south of Queenstown, we bypass Te Anua (a later stop) to reach the tiny town of Manapouri, where I turn over driving to a sequence of others.

Manapouri exists because of tourists like us but was not long ago a bustling hub for the construction of a massive hydroelectric plant at the other end of the lake of the same name. We travel by ferry boat, with our other Doubtful Sound passengers and a group going to visit the underground power plant, across a beautiful otherwise un-developed glacial lake dotted with islands and bays. The light mist and low clouds give it a mystic look. It reminds me of some of the larger lakes in the Boundary Waters or Lake of the Woods (without the development).

After this 45 minute trip, we land next to the power plant, a modest concrete facade strung with high voltage power lines. Almost the entire plant is underground. We are told of and experience some of the infrastructure that was needed for this remarkable and somewhat unique method of generating water driven power from a lake that has no natural waterfall. Like other stories of Australian and New Zealand ingenuity to tap natural resources, this power plant came about to provide electricity for an aluminum processing plant not far away. To tap energy from the lake, they dug a tunnel through a mountain from the lake to the Doubtful Sound. Draining water from the lake through the tunnel generates the power. But because there was no way to get the powerplant equipment to the site across the lake (no roads and no barges large enough), they had to build a road over the mountain to bring equipment brought to the Sound by ship. In the 60’s, this was the most expensive road built in New Zealand – we are told several times of its $2/cm price for 21 kilometers. Doesn’t sound like a lot by freeway standards, but this is a gravel road barely wide enough for two buses to pass.

We board a bus for the journey over the steep mountain pass. The forest on each side is so dense most of the way that the mosaic of plants forms a well manicured hedge on the side of the road. How the late 1800’s explorers could have hacked their way through this to discover this route is unclear. Along the way, we stop for scenic views of waterfalls and, just over the pass, a glimpse of the Sound.

Our overnight cruise boat awaits us at the far east end of the Sound. Along with about 60 others from the US, UK, Australia, and India, we climb aboard and set out. It is raining, which is the norm on the west side of the coastal mountains (e.g. 200 days per year) but this has the advantage of creating dozens of temporary waterfalls. The clouds hanging just feet over the trees creates a surreal, almost magical feeling. Before long, porpoises join us, a pod of several adults and a calf swimming along side the boat. We are treated to commentary as we pass islands, waterfalls, and other historic spots. Unlike Milford Sound, we see only a few powered watercraft all afternoon plus a group of intrepid cayakers/campers. Also unlike Doubtful Sound, the banks of the water are covered with thick forest clinging to thin hillside soil, rather than steep barren rock. Intermittently, we see bare rock or early moss, where the frequent earthquakes have caused landslides. We sail all the way to the end of the Sound/Fjord to the opening to the Tasman Sea, where we see some of the relatively rare New Zealand fur seals on the rocky islands.

We stop for an opportunity to go kayaking or exploring in motorized tenders. About half the passengers partake, but we opt to stay dry and warm and play some board games in the comfy lounge area. I can’t resist the idea to test the waters, however, and when encouraged to take a plunge I decide to take the challenge. How cold could it be, anyways? Jump in and immediately climb out- but then told by the captain that the “experience� requires 1 minute. Rebecca times me and I barely make it. The captain reports the water temperature as just below 60 degrees. A long hot shower barely warms me in time for a delicious multi-cultural buffet dinner.

The tiny cabins are comfortable for the night. We are up early to complete our tour of the Sound, which includes 10 minutes of complete silence at the end of Hall Arm. Without any engine noise or anyone talking or even moving about, we are able to hear some of the native birds, admire the scenery, and contemplate the remoteness and serenity of this place.

The return trip to Manapouri reinforces our admiration for this place, as the sun has come out creating entirely new types of the landscapes. In all, this was a most memorable 24 hours.

December 18, 2006

Queenstown

Queenstown

Adventure city!! We all rode the gondola and the chair lift to the luging (once is not enough is true) and then walked up to watch the parasailing launch point. Decided to pass on any activity that requires a back-up parachute. Emily and I went tandem paragliding, riding a hundred meters above the water under the parachute, attached by a cable to the speed boat. (Mom – it’s actually a safe activity). On day 2, Rebecca and I went white water rafting, passing under the bridge that is the original bungy jumping site. When offered the chance to “swim� down the first, mild rapids, I didn’t think long enough and rolled overboard into water. The shock occurred immediately, as I realized why we had on full wet suits just to ride in the rafts. A few mouthfuls of water and a bumpy ride to the calmer water after about 30 seconds was enough. Rebecca hauled me back in just the way we had been taught. Meanwhile, Joyce and Emily went on a scenic boat ride and a horse back adventure to a high country sheep farm. We decided to take a late afternoon ride across the pass to Puzzle World. More majestic views on the steep, winding road, but we got to our destination 6 minutes after the last allowed admission (no exception made – even the gates to the parking lot were closed). Made it back to Queenstown before dark, as the drive on the left side on this road was challenging enough with daylight.


Farm Stay

Farm Stay

When I imagined a sheep farm stay, I was thinking of an older white clapboard house with shutters next to the red barn overlooking the pasture. The farmer and his wife resembling American Gothic. How far from reality could that be?

The house is down a pretty road about 2 blocks off the main highway two hours south of Aukland. The houses on the block were built in the 80’s, each on about 1-2 acres. As we pulled up our home stay, we noted the circular driveway and beautiful rose bushes. What we couldn’t initially see was the swimming pool and tennis court. Our suite of three bedrooms and sitting area was in the back portion of the house, with sliding doors out to the garden and pool.

Our hosts, Gayle and Bill MacMillian, were also not what we would have expected. Gayle is a descendant of some of the earliest English settlers in New Zealand. She grew up on a farm, but trained as an opera singer. She continues to teach music (piano) as well as maintainss her garden and hosts the bed and breakfast guests, in addition to sheep and cattle farming. Bill was formerly a meat industry executive who returned to the land, but also does real estate sales and leads the local rotary.

A highlight of our visit to this mid-North Island community of Cambridge, which has the feel of an English country town, was the afternoon on the farm, a couple of miles from the MacMillian home. We watched Bill (inexpertly by his own admission) wrestle a sheep to the floor and shear the fleece and rode around the rolling hilly pastures with Gayle on the all-terrain vehicle. Rebecca and Emily (and the sheep dog) rode in a little cart on the back. Gayle impressed us with all they had done in the 5 years, including fencing, putting in a water system, storing silage, and raising hundreds of sheep (for lambs) and a few dozen cattle (for beef). Views are stunning from the hilltops overlooking the streams with mountains in the distance.

Another adventure in this part of the country was the visit to the glow worm caves. The worms live on the roof of the caves over the river the continues to cut into the limestone. To attract insects to its hanging sticky threads, each glow worm larva emits a little light. Silently passing through the dark cave in a row boat, we were awed by the thousands of little lights just above our heads. The stalactites and stalagmites in the caves were amazing too.

On our third day, we opted to skip the hour drive to Rototura to see more of the local sites. A local horse show, mostly entertaining for Emily and poking in stores in Tirau started our day. In the late afternoon, Rebecca and I ventured to the nearby lake for tandem sea kayaking. After an hour, we had it pretty well figured out, which was fortunate as the return trip was into the wind.

December 12, 2006

North Island Northland

Drove on the left side for the first time. In the first 2 hours, only drove down the wrong side once and only hit one orange cone on the left side of the car. It requires considerable concentration when turning or going across narrow bridges.

The North has much history, including a reserve where a small number of the old growth, 2000 year old trees still stand and the site where the treaty between the Maori and the British was signed in 1840, which essentially created New Zealand as a country. Remarkably, this site was essentially abandonded for the first half of the 20th century. Also took a boat trip to see dolphins and the Hole in the Rock, a passage large enough for a good sized passenger boat to travel through.

Attended an entertaining Maori concert/play about the history of the country.

New Zealand is so green, especially compared to Australia. Beautiful views at every curve- and there were a lot of them!

Some people are not as friendly as Australia. Some rude waiters and rip-off cab driver. Drivers honk if you don't go through the roundabout fast enough. On the other hand, the accent is easier to understand.

December 11, 2006

Kangaroo Island, Adelaide, Aukland

Our trip moved into high gear, with more cities, more sites, more activities and less time to update our blog.

We finished Kangaroo Island with a bang- a private night time tour. Although there were no penguins to see this time of year, we did encounter an echidna (the other monotreme mammal besides the platypus) driving on a very remote back road. If you haven't heard of it, neither had any of us before this trip, but by now Emily is an expert on all animals Australian. The highlight of the evening was the visit to a friend of our guide, a sheep farmer who has devoted the past several years to building a backyard fantasy land, with a forty foot tree house, a 2 story castle-like structure, and various sculptures and other oddities built out of scrap metal. All lit up at night like Disney Land. Another Kangaroo Islander with perseverence.

Adelaide, the capital of South Australia, is a bland but pleasant little city. We took the tram (very similar to the Mpls trolley) to the beach.

Aukland, about the same size as Adelaide, is a more bustling city with a lot of nightclubs. Stayed at a wonderful hotel just a couple of blocks from the wharf. I spent a good part of our one full day there sailing in a exhbilition match race on a America's Cup type boat. Another wonderful day of sailing, while Joyce and the girls saw the sites from land.

December 7, 2006

Kangaroo Island Day 2

Kangaroo Island II
It didn’t seem possible, but the second day of touring was even better than the first. Our guide, Phil, is one of several National Park rangers on the island, who does this on weekends to pay off the mortgage faster on his former Soldier’s and Settlers homestead. His knowledge of the island is encyclopedic and his planning about where to take us was fantastic: from the deserted white sand beaches to the gourmet picnic lunch in the ruins of the lighthouse keepers’ storehouse. While we were looking high in the 100 foot eucalyptus trees around the parking lot of Flinders Chase National Park (where Phil is currently working), he spotted a koala just 6 feet off the ground, clinging while it slept to the wrist sized trunk of the 15 foot tree right in front of us. He explained the formation of the Remarkable Rocks, which look like truck size boulders set carefully on three legs on top of granite pedestal just feet from the edge of sea-side cliff, but which are actually just the result of millions of years of erosion. We watched a few of the thousands of New Zealand seals that make the park their home lounge on the rocks, while their the rest of the colony is out to foraging off the continental shelf. He explained the collection of old refrigerators, dryers, and other assundry junk lined up at a fork in the road – this represents the creativity of long-time islanders who depend on the post man not only to drop off mail but to pick up a few things ordered and packed at the town grocery, which may be over an hour away mostly down washboard dirt roads. While traveling comfortably in our private 4 WD touring bus, he described his time as an abalone fisherman (or more technically the person who scraped them out of the shell after the boat owner/diver plucked them from the ocean floor) and how he persevered to become a Ranger, after being rejected twice in 2 years for the same job.

We concluded the tour with a visit to the Edwards property, a former sheep farm now home mostly to kangaroo. This mid-island plot is a testament to perseverance of both man and beast. The 1200 acre wooded plot was allotted to a WW II veteran and his wife, Herbert and Lucy. Even after his untimely death several years later in early 1950’s, Lucy, alone, raised their son and cleared the land of the gum trees and dense undergrowth. Living without electricity or even an outhouse, she cleared acre after acre with an axe, leaving a broad pasture for her sheep. She is consistently described as being a stubborn old hag. When she finally moved to town in her eighties, she offered to the farm to her son, who had lived a pioneer’s life there until age 18. When he suggested that he would subdivide it for houses, she instead donated it to the National Park system as a kangaroo sanctuary. Now, only licensed nature guides have access to the long gravel road to the expanse of ideal kangaroo grazing land.

The kangaroos living there should be on easy street, except for the nation-wide drought. Less than 1/10 of the typical 20-40 inches of rain fell this past winter on the island, leaving the grass as yellow and stunted as our front lawn used to be in August (before we put in a sprinkler system). But this is the beginning of summer here – which means there is almost nothing useful to eat until the rains 4 or 5 months from now. Even now, we watched them chew the leaves of 300 year old yucca plants, worth almost nothing nutritionally, Only the strongest kangaroos will survive. Similarly, Phil shared with us how showers at his house now last just a minute, as their rainwater tank holds only a small fraction of its capacity.

This not so small island (50 X 100 kilometers) is full of surprises. Next update will include our nighttime tour.

December 3, 2006

Joyce- Outback

Joyce’s reflections on the OUTBACK: Oppressive, unrelenting 110 degree heat with no respite. Stuffy, smelly tents, wondering what sweaty person slept on this cot before me, bathrooms that by the evening were gross and not clean, not to mention beetles the size of apples, some having gotten themselves upside down, their eight legs dangling in the air. Showers , well I won’t even go there. Red dust everywhere, flies that try to suck the moisture from your eyes, nose, and mouth so unless you are wearing a very silly looking flynet (which I made sure we all had) you are SOL. Getting up at four in the morning both days, once to see a sunrise on the rock but it was too cloudy when we got there to see the colors change, and the second time to climb a canyon which Emily couldn’t do because of how steep and long and hot it would be. What was our travel agent thinking????????? Won’t use him again as he never gave us an accurate picture of what this would be like. We were the oldest people on this trip with the exception of a German couple who I think were younger, but they colored their hair better than I do!!!!!!! No other kids. Okay, now the positives: Fun people even though they were in their 20’s and 30’s and this cute guy from England about 30 kept calling me “mom�. Interesting tour guides, very accommodating and informative. Emily formed quite a bond with one of them who was a trainee. Before this, for 20 years she roamed Australia with her donkeys making a living at odd jobs. I am not kidding!!!!!!!! I guess that’s why the tents didn’t bother her. They smelled like DONKEY. She was so kind, and gentle with Emily. They would take their flashlights and look for lizards and geckos under tents. Emily and she exchanged emails. The tour guides worked 16 hour days with hardly any sleep and then they take a day off and do it all over again. They were really great people to meet and be with. Food was great, cooked over a fire (like we needed more heat but it was yummy). Ed decided to take a helicopter ride with Emily and I did the King’s Canyon climb with Rebecca. It was spectacular to see the grandeur of this canyon. We got back to Alice Springs and spent two nights in a hotel. Both nights I awoke with nightmares. The first I got up from my bed and went to the window looking for the zipper of the tent because I needed air. I woke myself up and realized where I was. The second night I woke up running in the room screaming the sides of the tent are closing in, get me out.
I will say that I know I can survive the elements and stinky things. I loved watching the moon at night from my cot sleeping outside. I loved being with my kids and husbands and admiring how they handled these challenges. I will camp again but not in the outback!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kangaroo Island - Day 1

Kangaroo Island. Think of a cross between Catalina Island (off the coast of LA), Martha’s Vineyard and Key West, but throw in a variety of animals where this is their only habitat in the world. That is Kangaroo Island – and we’ve only seen the eastern half!

A wonderful day touring in a little bus, the four of us, a couple from Charlottesville, VA (also celebrating a 50th birthday) and our driver – an eclectic who teaches elementary school, paints, and tends to his the house he built and the surrounding property that is “off-the grid�.

An incomplete list of places and animals includes: Kangaroo Island sea lions basking on a beach, koalas in the trees on the side of the road, yellow-tailed cockatoos, wallabies and kangaroos in the nature preserve, and teen-aged surfers on the beach that can only be accessed through a 4-foot high natural stone tunnel. A gourmet lunch under a tent in the woods adjacent to a creek on a sheep farm and a tour of our guide’s art studio completed our day. Did I mention the break for tea and cake in the morning while we looked at koalas or the cold beer after running and splashing down the almost empty ¼ mile long white sand beach? Or the asian kangaroo stir fry for dinner?

December 1, 2006

Rebecca: The Outback

Ok, so here is my long awaited entry. I'm sorry I haven't written anything yet, I am keeping a journal though so I can share that with all of you when I get home. So the outback. Well, it's hot. And dusty. And hot. And did I mention hot? No, but it really wasn't all that bad (despite what other members of my family might lead you to believe). When my dad first said we were camping in the outback, I immediately thought we were going to die and be stranded in the middle of the desert and I would never get to go to Brandeis. It was very traumatic. So we get picked up by the Connections tour bus, and immediately my fears begin to slightly subside. Our tour guides, Mark and Rowen, were really nice and friendly, and the people on the bus already were also very nice. We drove along, picking up more people (there were about 19 of us...mostly from Germany and England-my family were the only Americans) and then we headed to the outback. On the way to the campsite, we stopped at a camel farm and I rode a camel for about five minutes around this little corall. Not that exciting, but whatever. Then we got back on the bus and we went to Mt. Ebonezer, which to be honest, didn't really consist of a mountain. It was mostly just a bunch of sand dunes and a road house with a place to buy drinks and food. The scenery on the way to the campsite was really not that exciting, there wasn't much to see. Lots of red dust and even more random shrubs and bushes that looked as though they were desperate for water. We arrived at the campsite, which was actually pretty nice, there were showers and a clean bathroom and the tents were fine. The people we were with were awesome, there were mostly young couples on thier honeymoon, which was adorable, and everyone was just so sweet. We unpacked our stuff and had dinner, which was sausages and steak (i didn't eat the sausages, they told me they were kangaroo sausages and I didn't want to eat it, it wasn't until later that I figured out they were kidding). Then we went to bed, we were all so exhausted from getting up really early to catch the bus that we just crashed. It was really hot in the tents, but I was so tired that I immediately fell asleep. Only to be woken up at a painfully early 4 am to head to Uluru or Ayers Rock. We staggered out of our tents, sluggishly swallowed some toast, and then headed off. As we approached the rock, my fatigue seemed to slip away as I marveled at the sight before me. It was an enormous red rock, that stood out like a beacon of hope and spirituality among the bleak desert landscape. We walked around the rock and went to an Aborignal cultural center to learn more about thier culture and beliefs. The rock is a very sacred site to the aboriginies, almost like the Jewish version of the kotel. It was really hot, and the flies were buzzing around my face, but all that didn't really seem to matter, because the sight before me was so magnificent. We got back on the bus and went to the Olgas, another sacred Aborignal site. It wasn't quite as interesting as Uluru, but it was very pretty. The next day, we were woken up at four am again to head to Kings Creek Station, another campsite. This one had a pool..which was very exciting. We hung out around there during the afternoon...and then I went to go take a cold shower. Or so I thought. I go to the bathroom and am so looking forward to the cool water rushing down my skin but when I turn on the cold, it comes out warm. I thought maybe I was mistaken, but nope. Even the cold water is hot. Very disappointing. We had dinner, and then we went to bed again, but this time it was not as easy to fall asleep. it was even hotter, and I had a very hard time finding a comfortable position. I finally managed to fall into something resembling sleep and woke up what I thought was a long time later. I looked at my watch, and only an hour had passed. Needless to say, it was a long night. We woke up at 4 am again the next morning, and went to Kings Canyon. It was beautiful, we climbed to the top and walked around, learning about the plants and the landscape from our very knowledgeable guide. We headed back to camp for lunch, and then we drove back to Alice Springs. It was a great trip, the people were awesome, (I even learned some british slang from one of the people from England) and the scenery was beautiful. It was hot, and there were lots of flies, but that didn't seem to matter that much in the end.

Outback

The Outback of Australia. It is a remarkable experience of environmental, cultural, geological, geographic, climactic and sensory systems. I now sit on the porch of our hotel in Alice Springs, inhabited by Europeans initially as the half-way point between Adelaide in the south and Darwin in the north as a telegraph relay station. The distances are enormous – 1500 kilometers (800 miles) in each direction with almost no one living along the way. Theoretically, with enough gas, you could drive the entire distance without slowing down – and for most of it there is no speed limit. Practically, you would end up behind a “road train� which can not go too fast. The paucity of traffic and the distances offers a road that permits trucks to attach multiple trailers (up to 6, but the most we saw was 4), so that instead of an 18 wheeler, you end up with as many as 100 wheels.

The climate is desert. As an life experience, we were fortunate to encounter its extremes. The average November high is in the low 90s, with lows in the 60s. Even in January, the average high is below 100. We got to experience 110. Even with normal day-night variation, it didn’t cool off enough by day break. We really experienced this, since our tents barely had cross-ventilation, let alone air-conditioning. The second night, several of us in our group of 17 (with two guides) slept on cots outside. It was uncomfortably hot, even wearing only shorts and without a covering bed sheet. The breeze helped, until it suddenly picked up the ubiquitous fine red sand, dusting us lightly but thoroughly. I now have a different sense of the Sandman. I gave up and went into the tent, which by 1 AM was almost tolerable. This was timely, as the others scrambled an hour later when rain began pelting their exposed skin.

We were camping in the area near Ayers Rock, called Uluru by the local Aborigines. This monolith is the most photographed site in Australia. Along with the Sydney Opera House, it represents the two icons of the country. Discovered in the late 1800’s by determined outback explorers, it had already been a sacred site for natives for tens of thousands of years. It is one of a number of remnants of ancient mountain tops in the central desert and not the oldest or largest, but the only one developed as a tourist destination – now visited by over ½ million people per year. Pictures, regardless of the beauty due to varying angles of the sun and clouds, don’t do it justice. The 1000 foot high rock with a circumference of over 5 miles must be experienced as a contrast to its surroundings, by driving from Alice Springs for 6 hours (with stops) down straight empty road across perfectly flat desert covered with scattered shrubs and small trees. Thus it can be seen for many miles not unlike an island in the open sea.

Uluru’s attraction for tourists coincides with international interest in indigenous populations. This, I have learned, is relatively new and not uniformly shared by Australians. The area around the rock is controlled by the local Aboriginal community of about 500 people, which gets a share of tourists’ fees. In exchange, they let people climb their sacred site, about 50% of the time (mostly limited by weather but occasionally for ceremonial purposes). The climb is up the western end and requires pulling yourself up a 45 degree angle using a chain handhold. About once a year, someone dies from a fall or a heart attack. (Closed for temperature over 95 the day we were there.) The alternative is walking around the base, to view the cracks, holes, stains waterholes and caves all caused by the rare rains that do fall, creating waterfalls down Uluru’s mostly vertical walls. In addition, some of the sheltered areas along the base were/are sites of Aboriginal rites or were classrooms where grandparents used wall paintings to pass on knowledge and traditions to children, while parents hunted and cooked. The natural colors and simple symbols used in this instructional material as well as the dot painting technique used to draw in the sand are the basis for the art now sold on canvas in the nearby cultural center.

Our guides’ comments regarding the history and status of the indigenous population were revealing. They are consistent with the history of European-indigenous relations described in a book called, Nowhere People, which is a history of racial relations in Australia. We heard a number of comments that suggested a belief that Aborigines are not as evolutionarily developed as people of European descent. This was a dominant viewpoint and directed government policy in Australia for most of past 200 years. Darwin’s theories were used to perpetuate the idea that Aborigines were a more primitive form of human. It is only since modern genetics and DNA testing that such ideas could be disproved. I prefer the theory that Aborigine culture has persisted continuously for over 30,000 years in a model of tribes surviving by hunting and gathering as being a function of environment. Lack of wild grains (e.g. wheat, rice, corn) that could become crops or large herd able mammals (horses, oxen, etc) seen in other parts of the world. Without agriculture, development of stationary homes and larger communities didn’t occur. At the same time, we learned of complex culture, knowledge and skills developed to survive.

This was our first family camping trip. For sure not our last, given that we all found things we enjoyed in an environment was more challenging than anything we could find in Minnesota in the summer. I would compare it to winter camping, which I (unlike my brother David) have carefully avoided. We all experience it so differently and we are learning about each other as we suffer and enjoy (although not always the same things). For example, finding lizards in the dining tent or half-dollar sized insects in the bathroom was fun for Emily but not for everyone else.

A quick list of the things we did: sunrise and sunset viewing the Rock (not ideal because of clouds), hiking, camel rides, and Emily and I took a brief helicopter tour.

Back in Alice Springs, we completed our Outback exploration by a tour of the Royal Flying Doctor Service, which provides air transport for medical providers that serve the Aborigine communities and remote cattle stations (ranches) many of which are hundreds of thousands of acres. In addition to our standard visitor’s tour of the facility, I was able to chat with the local medical director for central Australia, an area of 1 million square kilometers. He was very generous with his time, for over an hour sharing stories of the clinical, cultural, ethical and administrative challenges in providing remote medical care, especially within cultural norms that are nearly impossible for Whites to infiltrate or understand. He also confirmed my impression that the Outback is a rare destination for Australian tourists, although I am thankful that we included it our itinerary since it is as large in the history and landmass of the country as it is home to a small fraction of the population.