Bonus Australia photos

Time for some more bonus photos of my recent journey - I have plenty to force on you, as you can imagine. These five are from my first few months in Sydney. It's one of those cities where everyone you know who's been there has liked it. Very few people have bad things to say about the Harbour City...




Australia revels in the reputation of deadly animals lurking around every corner - especially to us paranoid Brits who usually deal with nothing more dangerous than cows and squirrels. These wonderful looking things are Stingers - small, brilliant blue jellyfish. After stormy weather you see them littering the strandlines on Sydney's beaches (I took this photo on a rainy day at Bondi). A relative of the feared Portuguese Man-o'-War, they give a nasty burning sting - but aren't really that dangerous. The surfers were still out, albeit with wetsuits to protect them.



I took this at the Museum of Australia in central Sydney. The more I look at it, the more I love the contented expression on the face of this frog. Presumably he's just settling down to a mid-afternoon snooze after an insect-based lunch and a morning of sitting on a branch dozing. Although it was in captivity, I can't honestly say this frog was stressed in any way. I like the way he's resting on his arms, tucked under his chin.



That really was the only cloud in the sky - drifting slowly across the distant buildings of the Sydney CBD. I was standing on the small beachfront road at Watson's Bay, an exclusive suburb in Sydney's East (and one of many). I've been there so many times, that I can look at this picture and conjure up an image of exactly what it was like - even now, sitting here at my computer on a grey Edinburgh afternoon. That surely is the very best thing about travelling.



One of the most touristy things you can do in Sydney is the Bridge Climb. This is a photo of climbers just starting out on the lower section of the bridge above Cumberland Street in the Rocks. You pay $180 to pull on a grey boiler-suit and shuffle up the steps to the top. I really wouldn't recommend it - you are strung together like a chain gang, can't take any photos, and have all kinds of 'lectures' and safety demos beforehand. The whole thing takes about 4hrs. Just above these people is the excellent South Pylon viewpoint - where you can climb up one of the stone supporting pillars of the bridge (that don't actually support the bridge at all), look at a small museum, and the view, for $7. That's my top tip...



Fireworks are notoriously difficult to photograph, unless you've got a top of the range camera, tripod, and a lot of patience. It helps if you're not stood in the middle of the road in a huge crowd of people too - but it was New Year's Eve and the only place to be was within sight of the Harbour Bridge for the display. It was pretty spectacular - not that you can tell from this picture - the bridge was lit up by all kinds of twinkling explosions. It's hard to get an idea of the sheer scale here - those 'shooty' ones firing upwards are going hundreds of feet into the night sky. Unfortunately the lack of wind meant the smoke hung around and obscured most of the better effects, but it was definately worth seeing.

Christmas Countdown

Edinburgh skyline at dusk


The first major sign of Christmas approaching is always the TV adverts. Actually, my Mum starts getting Christmas merchandise catalogues sent to her around August - is that right Mum? (she's obliged to read this), but it's always on television that the impending sense of dread starts to creep in, around the end of October. I'm no Scrooge when it comes to the festive spirit, but after the media try and flog us the doubtful joys of Halloween (something people outside of North America just don't celebrate), the Christmas adverts start. Then the shops get all geared up, and there's no escape.

Edinburgh does the Chistmas thing very well, which helps limit the blow if you're not a fan of the festive. The crushingly dark conditions at this time of the year lend themselves well to decorations, and the entire city sparkles with light. The cavernous blackness of Princes Street Gardens is illuminated by hundreds of light bulbs twinkling in the trees, George Street is draped in Christmas lights strung across the road, and the large Norwegian tree sits proudly atop the Mound, fronting the silhouetted castle behind. It helps of course that Edinburgh is such a picturesque city - you could decorate the streets with razor wire and it would look good. I hear they did that for the G8 Summit last July, actually.

Princes Street hosts the ubiquitous German market, which has grown considerably since I was last here - to appease the colour supplement-reading middle classes no doubt. I wonder if they have British markets in Germany? Spar carrier bags tied in trees and all the bacon Frazzles and lukewarm Carling you can take. The large ferris wheel is there, (see photo above) next to the wonderous jagged monument to Sir Walter Scott. When I see the workers constructing it, for me that's the start of Christmas. There's also an ice-rink nearby - which of course I won't use after my catastrophic skating incident in Boston. I walked past it once when my Mum was up visiting (she's my biggest fan!) and it had rained so much the ice was flooded. Kids were taking it in turns to dive headfirst and slide the entire length of the rink, supported by a large wave of icy water.

I've already seen plenty of Christmas displays in shops and houses on my bus trips back from work - some real corkers. Not quite the scale people go to in (again) North America, but you can only do so much on a budget. This year's must-have seems to be vertical lights that strobe and flash different shades of blue, making the entire window look like one of those insect electrocutors you see in restaurant kitchens. I bet it confuses the hell out of moths. Looking for the best (and worst) of these displays livens up the bus trip - I can remember entire lenghty car journeys as a young lad were passed by counting Christmas trees in house windows as we zoomed past. How gullible kids can be, eh? Anyway, time to start thinking about the dreaded Christmas shopping, and the always worthwile office Christmas Party. Yeah!

Rudely awakened

Pool tournament photo (archive)


3am! Who calls people at that time of the night? The other night I was lying there on my inflatable mattress dreaming peacefully of Rovers winning the league when a devilishly loud screaming woke me up. After I realised it was the phone, I gave up and let it ring out. I was just dozing off when it rang again, so I got up and answered it. It was a middle aged Scottish woman, who sounded perfectly sober and awake. This was the conversation:

me: What? Hello?
her: Hi Wendy!
me: What?
her: Wendy!
me: It's three o'clock in the f*cking morning!
her: Sorry?
me: This isn't Wendy!!
her: It isn't? Oh. Sorry.

She put the phone down, and I went back to bed. On the way to work I started wondering who Wendy might be, and why she would be called at 3am by another woman. How strange some people are. And how annoying.


Last night saw the epic battle for the Duncan Goodhew Trophy* - our annual pool tournament that takes place every three months at Marco's on Grove Street. Having been away overseas, I was of course making my long-awaited debut in the competition, and immediately installed myself as an outside-bet dark-horse to take the title. Sadly, I am bloody-awful at pool, and despite a thrilling opening win I preceded to lose every other game and finish second last. Thankfully the person I beat was just as dreadful as me, or I would have been rock bottom. I won't name and shame him on here - let's just say it was Grant Anthony. I always have high hopes in these kind of things - but once the beer hits my system I'm good for another...oh 30 seconds or so, and then I might as well be knocking tomatoes around with a stick of celery. I did manage some spectacular flukes though, and also didn't fire any balls off the table and have to meekly go and ask for them back. But I was pretty rubbish - the trophy was destined never to be mine. I have excuses though - all the beer I drank, the dodgy burger I ate (must have been, as this morning I had a pounding headache), and the midweek 3am phone call which put me off my game. Hey - maybe it wasn't a wrong number! It's a conspiracy!


*Because he was 'good in a pool'

Scottish delicacies

Made in Scotland, but not from girders


The other day I was tucking into a hard-earned Tunnocks Caramel Wafer when I started thinking about the wonders of Scottish cuisine. Scotland has some fantastic foods - wild game, fish, seafood, raspberries (best in the world, without doubt). But it also has some truly shocking foods - for every venison roast you have the deep-fried pizza supper. Gourmet foodie types might love nothing better than Cullen Skink, but plenty of regular Scots settle for Chips and Curry sauce. It's for this reason that Scotland leads the developed world in cancer, strokes, tooth decay, and heart disease - things we eat here can clog your arteries before you've put down the fork (or spoon, wrapper, bottle). After enjoying the Asian-themed fusion cooking they practically invented in Australia, not to mention the genuine Asian-themed food in Japan, the muck people eat here has certainly stood out.

Of course the classic Scottish stereotypical dish is the mighty deep-fried Mars Bar. You name it, the wacky Scots will coat it in sticky fat and cook it in liquid fat. Foods that are fat-based tend to work best. According to the BBC, it was 'invented' in Stonehaven - a permanently wintry port near Aberdeen, but are sold by 22% of Scottish takeaways - including one that sells 200 per week. 3/4 of them to children. I actually know people who've eaten one - and as far as I know they are all still with us - but wouldn't risk one myself. I actually found a recipe for them once, where it was described as "an excellent source of fat, sugar and calories. For a seasonal variation you could also try deep frying a Cadbury's Creme Egg." You don't get those off the Easter bunny.

When you go into a Scottish takeaway the options lettered on the board above the portly staff are bewildering - and not just for the disgraceful lack of mushy peas north of the border. When will they learn? Fish and chips, is of course the classic - but a fish supper usually gets you two bits of battered fish and enough chips to choke a horse. Also on the menu will be deep-fried haggis (I'm not a fan of haggis, but I do eat it now and again. It tastes like a meaty spice explosion), and the three coloured puddings - black, white and red. Being from Lancashire I'm familiar with black pudding - or blood sausage - but I never really found out what was in white pudding (I assume it's black pudding without the black), and red pudding is something I've only ever seen in a few takeaways - maybe you have to ask the server with a knowing wink to get one. They look interesting lined up together in the sweaty glass case above the frying oil - like organs from an alien dissection.

It's not just solid food either, we like our calories and fat in liquid form too. Take Irn Bru. According to Wikipedia, Scotland is one of only three countries where Coca Cola isn't the number one selling soft drink (the other two are, of course, Sweden and Peru). Irn Bru takes those honours. Invented in 1901, it's exact recipe is known to only two board members. To be honest - like haggis - I don't really want to know what's in it. I remember the old advertising slogan "Made in Scotland from girders" but amusingly Wikipedia counters this claim by stating that only 0.002% by volume comes from Ammonium ferric citrate, although I doubt many skyscrapers are supported by beams of that. It doesn't contain caffeine though, although the carcinogenic colourings that give it the distinctive orange hue mean it's banned in America, apparently. But it's good for hangovers, so we'll forgive it that. It has an odd, faintly metallic bubblegummy taste, which like haggis - indeed like all Scottish food - is an acquired taste. Now which pudding shall I have tomorrow?

Excitement at work

Friday snow! (That's my green chair there too)


I know, an odd concept. But as days at work go, Friday was well up there on the excite-o-meter. A few weeks ago I ordered a 5th Gen video-iPod from the Apple online website, and have been waiting in geeky agony for it to arrive. I've read a few blogs where some tekky bozo goes on at length about his (it's always a he) new iPod, so I won't say much about it - other than a) it's bloody brilliant, and b) it arrived on Friday. I've been following the Apple online order checking thing for the almost three weeks it took to get here. From Shanghai (hooray for sweatshops, eh?), to Amsterdam, to Nuneaton(?) to the mighty Edinburgh. On Friday morning I looked again, and joy of joys found it had been dispatched for delivery, in Edinburgh, at 9:04am. So I was planning to get my sweaty palms on it around mid-morning, giving me all day to play with it. And the iPod. Hoho! Well, crude innuendo had to wait, as in the end it arrived at 4:30pm, after a fun day being driven around Edinburgh in a van. Meanwhile, I was glancing at the clock and jumping every time the phone went. Oh, and working (ahem). Anyway, to cut a long and extremely dull story short - it arrived, I got excited, I have a new toy, people in my office now think I'm a geek. Well, more of a geek than before.

The other exciting thing that happened on Friday was (as you can see) that it snowed. Proper Scottish snow too - the sky turns an odd shade of yellowy/grey for ages, then massive amounts of soapy snow flurry around whiting out everything, before melting as suddenly as it arrived and everyone wonders what the fuss was about. The bright spark that decided to design our new building as a giant glass structure (with floor to ceiling windows) may have envisioned smartly dressed business types parading around from meeting to meeting bathed in natural light, but if they had turned up on Friday they would have seen an office full of people idly staring out of those large windows at the snow, absent-mindly wondering if it would stick or not (and one handsome devil in a t-shirt wondering where his bloody iPod was). Anyway, it snowed like crazy for a while, then slowed to a flutter, before ceasing entirely and melting away within an hour. Even so, Edinburgh traffic went bonkers and people struggled to cope. It's the British way!

Bonus NZ photos

Some more photies from the trip - this bunch from those three distant islands of New Zealand. If you haven't been there - you owe it to yourself to go. I can't put it any simpler.




Akaroa again, the French settlement that lies about 70km south of Christchurch. This is the old jetty, looking out into the harbour where you can go dolphin watching. The water fills what used to be a massive volcanic crater, which rumbled out of the sea in pre-historic times creating the Banks Peninsula (named by Captain Cook after his botanist, Joseph Banks). The mountains in the distance are the opposite crater wall.




The Franz Josef glacier is breath-taking. We walked up it for about 4hrs, smashing down into the ice with our crampons with every step. It was - you'll be surprised - very slippery, but thankfully none of us vanished into crevasses like this one (and this was a small one). The guy with the ray-bans is Mike, a trainee policeman, and the other bloke is a wacky Korean called Minh who took a million photos. A chainsmoker, he forgot his cigarettes - and the thought of 8hrs without made him dig out a pile of till receipts from his bag, roll them up, and smoke them. I asked him if it tasted nice. "No." he said, shaking his head sadly.




This is the Haast Pass, a narrow strip of land in the South Island between mountain ranges. On the way to Thunder Creek Falls, I think this bit is Pleasant Flat. According to a website I looked at it 'frequently rains and the magnificent view may be obscured by fog or clouds. This is also sandfly territory, so have some rub on insect repellent available.' Named by an explorer with a sense of irony (or humour).




Queenstown, as seen from one of the many hills that surround it. The town reminded me of a Lake District or Scottish Highland town, only with utterly crazy stuff going on everywhere. Like Aviemore on acid. Want to pull on a wetsuit and roll down a slope inside a gas-filled rubber ball? Why not? You can't do it in Kendal, after all (as far as I know). Those mountains are the 'Remarkables' - so called because apparently they run in an exact line, North to South. They were also featured in Lord of the Rings - as was most of the rest of NZ.




The Moeraki Boulders, in Oamaru. Over 60 million years old, these enormous black balls are one of many rock-based attractions in New Zealand - indeed they actually feature as the photo on a major NZ credit card. The largest ones were about the size of a car, and all were formed in some complicated geological process involving heat and pressure, where a single tiny fossil was glooped on by layer after layer of ooze, like a giant profiterole. So in the middle of each one of those huge boulders is a microscopic shell or piece of wood. The Maori believe they are food baskets of the Gods, washed ashore from a shipwrecked canoe.




This is me and my old mate Edd, recently emigrated to Wellington from Edinburgh with his girlfriend Michelle and their wee lad, Jack. If you can see me straining to hold the little guy, it's because he's about a month old here. Well, 6 months. He's one hefty chap! I'd never actually held a baby before, as you can see - I didn't tell Michelle that of course - which is why I'm gripping the little tot with all my strength. This was taken just outside Wellington, where we went for chips. The main runway of Wellington Airport is just to the left of us, so we ate chips and watched the planes take off. Michelle calls this photo 'My two Dads' - although what she's implying there, I didn't ask...

Day of nothing

Princes Street on a Saturday


Venturing out into the centre of Edinburgh on a Saturday can be a hectic thing at the best of times - but seeing as the Christmas rush appears to have started already, on weekends the city is packed. If you go to either end of Princes Street, and happen to be reasonably tall, you can look along the entire street and see about a mile of heads - shoppers mindlessly charging along looking for bargains. So with nothing specific that needed doing today, it was time for a well-earned 'day of nothing' - general pointless mooching around that is the one true benefit of having no kids/pets/responsibilities. First off, it was a cup of tea - an Empire was built on it, after all. Then, a short but invigorating stroll to William Hills to pick up a football pools coupon, and to the paper shop. It was absolutely freezing today - I stepped out of the door and the cold hit me like a slap with a frozen fish. I could feel the heat start to leach out of my fingers and nose, so hurried off down the street, reading the obscene graffiti written on frosty parked cars as I went.

Back inside, it was another brew and a bagel - a weekend treat more exciting than toast - and the all important coupon selections. If you're unaware of betting on football in this way, you get a sheet with the day's upcoming matches divided into groups (sections) of 8. You pick one team out of each section to win (or draw), and then decide how much you want to bet. Some people play randomly, but I try to at least give it a sense of reason by consulting the division standings and matchups. This is easily over-relied on though, and you start obsessing about how many home wins Plymouth Argyle have this season, or because Ross County have yet to draw a game - will that be an omen for their meeting with Dundee? Very quickly you get all kinds of permutations, and having to narrow them down to one for each section becomes tricky. Still, I managed it eventually and selected 5 games at 14/1, 8 games at 81/1, and 4 draws at 69/1. £1 on each of those three, and suddenly meaningless matches like Stranraer v. Brechin take on a financial importance.

So it was back out into the cold for the ten-minute walk to the bookies to register the coupons, which I did in five minutes because it was so freezing. Looking at the darkening sky, it was threatening to snow - something I've not seen for a while, of course. The prospect of freezing winds and snow combined with crowded streets made it even less inviting to go up to the city. So it was on with the Xbox and a few games of Tiger Woods golf until the football results came in - again, I should stress this was a deliberately lazy day - not something I do all the time. Well, apart from playing on the Xbox. Once the football matches kicked off at 3pm, it was time for the excitement of updating scorelines on 'Super Saturday' on Sky (sorry Dad) accompanied by more tea, of course.

For the next two hours, the coupons were clutched and repeatedly glanced at as goals were scored across the country. In order to win a section, you have to get every game right - so I was hoping for 5 games to be won by the teams I'd predicted, and another 8, and 4 to be drawn. Of course, each time a scoreline flashed up it was a potential coupon-buster. Amazingly the football gods smiled on me, and in my 14/1 section all five teams I'd marked down actually won. So after checking the final scores at 5pm, it was back to the bookies to collect my winnings. It was long since dark by this point, and the buses were packed full of Saturday shoppers returning with their spoils of victory. After leaving William Hill, I had my own spoils in the form of £20.70 ($35 for my American readers) - not massive, but I only bet £3, so it was good enough. As I walked home I was struck with the thought that in my 'day of nothing' I'd left the flat three times - each time to go to the betting shop. I don't have a problem, honest...

Roond and aboot

Sometimes it is sunny in Scotland...


Last Sunday it was one of those cracking autumnal days - yes, I'm talking about the weather again - where you have to try and get outside. As luck would have it, I'd arranged to go and walk in the Pentland Hills with an old mate of mine who's off to trek some crazy trail in South America soon and needed practice. So by 9am we were strolling up weatherbeaten hills into the crisp sunshine, getting some stingingly-cold air into our lungs. Because of the weather, it was pretty busy up there, and we passed plenty of groups of ramblers with their trekking poles and expensive Goretex jackets. I'm sure they were nice people, but there's something about that kind of person that has all the latest and most expensive gear on show that I dislike. Golfers are the worst - with their £400 drivers and electronic trolleys. I think it's basically jealousy. When I play golf I hack round with my mismatched clubs of different makes - in fact, they are so rubbish that once I played a shot with my 9-iron and the end of the club sheared off and flew down the fairway. I bet fancy clubs don't snap in half. Actually I think the club head went further than my ball. Anyway, I think I've gone off on a tangent somewhat.

Moving on to something different - the bus I caught to work this morning was hit by a car, right under the window where I was sitting. I was almost at my stop, when we motored through the Broomhouse roundabout and I happened to briefly look up from my book. A red Astra came circling round the inside, and as we chopped in front - which I think is what's supposed to happen at roundabouts - it didn't stop, and ploughed into the side of us. I had that odd train of thought you get when something unexpected happens quickly - "Oh, that car's going to hit us...that car is hitting us!...why is that car hitting us?" It wasn't a major collision or anything, we just crumpled the front corner of the Astra and bounced it up onto the grass roundabout. In fact, our bus driver didn't even notice and carried on. It was only when we came to a halt at the next stop he found out. The irate driver had followed us, got out, and charged up to the door. There was a brief but amusing moment when our driver thought this bloke was wanting to get on the bus, so helpfully waited for him to run up and opened the door - only to cop an earful. "You just hit me with yer f*cking bus, pal!" shouted the car driver. "You shoved me right into the f*cking roondaboot!" No-one gets irate quite like a Scotsman - especially one who gets punted into a traffic hazard at 7am. Anyway, the driver got out and quizzically looked at the scratches on the side of the bus, and everyone had to get off so he could swap details with the Astra driver. I had to walk the rest of the way to work, but it was worth it.

150 up

Amazingly, this is my 150th post on DUaB - something I started as a brief means of assuring people who had an interest in me that I was still alive when I was travelling. Now I'm back, and it seems to be gamely soldiering on like a shufflingly faithful old dog - except without the smell. I was thinking of a suitable way to mark my 150th post, especially as my 100th totally passed by without me realising (for you diehards out there it was the post about our washing machine getting zapped by lightning). Apart from writing something moving and profound (I've not managed it yet, after all), I thought that a collection of photos from my various recent travels would be as good a way as any. These are all new photos to the blog - I've avoided posting things that you've seen before. Thanks for reading, and see you for number 151...




The sun slipping below the buildings of the Rocks on Sydney harbour. This was part of my walk home from work in Milson's Point - out of the office and over the Harbour Bridge, along to Macquarie Street, through Hyde Park and up Oxford Street. There can be few greater commutes in the world, I think. This is the Cahill Expressway, which was bulldozed through Circular Quay and although it gives you a great view of the bridge and harbour (just off to the right) it's an utter eyesore.



I was in Sydney for over three months until I got a job, just living on what I'd scraped together and taken with me after doing months of overtime and 7:30am-6:00pm Sundays. Days out like this were my reward. I remember walking into the office thinking I was getting the finances purely so I could do things like sitting all day at a cricket match drinking beer, and it kept me going. This was taken at a rather dull midweek affair between NSW and the touring New Zealanders - as you can see the Sydney Cricket Ground was deserted. I didn't care though, I sat there for seven hours and it was bloody great.



Every year Sydney hosts an outdoor exhibition of modern sculpture called 'Sculpture by the Sea' - it takes place on the coastal footpath that runs from Bondi to Tamarama. On a typically lovely weekend day, I wandered around looking at the wierd and wonderful entrants trying to figure out whether I liked any of them. This elephant was one I did like - if only for the amazing amount of work that must have gone into it, and the details which you could see up close. Computer monitors make great feet - and the mouth is an old toilet.



Ahhh, WA. Now there's a relaxed state. I took four days to travel Northwards up the coast from the capital Perth to the small naval tracking station of Exmouth. On the way, we frequently stopped at places like this - Shell Beach. I was just about to take a picture of some of the guys from the bus wading into knee-deep water to find somewhere to swim, when one of the girls ran to the front and took a photo of us looking at them. The bay was so shallow (and salty) that they walked for ten minutes and the water was still only halfway between their knees and their waists - so they gave up and sloshed back to the beach.



This is the small town of Akaroa in New Zealand, just outside Christchurch on the South Island. In the European rush for the New World, the South Island was initially claimed by the French. Based at the natural harbour of Akaroa, they made a claim for the entire group of islands. The trouble was, the native Maori had signed a deal with the British to 'sell' them their land (under pressure, no doubt), so the British then dutifully evicted the French from the country and proceeded to suppress the Maori and generally take over. To placate the French slightly, the Brits let them keep Akaroa - so even today the street names are in French, and the tricolore flutters in the streets. It's part of modern New Zealand of course, but the French background keeps the tourists flocking in...



On the other coastline of the South Island are miles and miles of deserted beaches. I got a bus from Christchurch to Barrytown, and was supposed to get off at the Barrytown Inn to meet my Stray bus for the start of my tour. I asked the driver to point out the Inn when we got to Barrytown, as I didn't have a map and it wasn't in the guidebook. He started laughing, and when we got to Barrytown I got off and realised why - there are only five buildings in the town. The driver (who had a big smile on his face) pointed to the only building that wasn't a shack, and drove off. I spent four hours walking on this beach, and only saw two women on horses and this dog, that followed me around for about an hour before getting bored and wandering off.



We got some incredible rain on the circuit of the South Island - none more so than at Milford, where we got battered by heavy rain and gale-force winds. We got out in a rainstorm to look at a gorge on the River Cleddau near the fjord of Milford Sound. Signs at the start of the path had called it a 'Chasm Walk', so we were expecting something pretty good. When we got there, this was it - the guy next to me looked down and said 'This isn't a chasm, it's just a f*cking hole' - but I pointed my camera over the edge of the bridge and took a picture anyway.



One of my favourite places in New Zealand was the 'third island' - Stewart Island. Only a small one, it lies just South of the coast of the South Island - it's pretty remote, and most Kiwis haven't been there. It's a fishing and oyster farming island, with amazing natural bird life, and not much else. We stayed overnight there, and took a tiny bouncing boat to the bird sanctuary of Ulva Island where amazingly rare birds walked, hopped and flew around without any predators to worry about. At night we went to the only pub on the island and drank with some of the fishermen. This was taken at dawn the next morning, waiting for the ferry to be loaded so we could brave the rough Foveaux Straight crossing back to the mainland of the South Island.



The Japanese have a love of nature - but a very ordered kind of nature, on their terms. This is one of the reasons why bonsai is so popular, and this is a picture of the other extreme. The large park in Nara, just East of Kyoto, has hundreds (probably thousands) of trees - and all of the pine trees are carefully clipped and pruned to accentuate their shape. Gardeners have been doing this in Nara for centuries - it was the original capital of Japan. Apparently the men that do this are experts, and there are very few of them, as it is a difficult skill to master. They don't just wade in with the strimmer - this man was delicately balanced up a massive tree carefully snipping away, looking as if he could tumble out at any moment.



Seafood is king in Japan - at Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo they sell an astonishing £15m worth per day. This picture is something you see quite often in smaller Japanese towns if they are by the sea - dried seafood for sale. In this case an octopus, but also all kinds of fish and squid were laid out on benches or hung on specially designed coathangers and fluttering in the breeze. At first, I thought it was a kite - but people do eat it, although I'm not sure how. I didn't try octopus jerky, although I did eat it raw, and it was lovely. The other thing I thought when I saw this was 'How did they flatten it?'



What do you think this is? It doesn't look like a ferris wheel, but that's what it is. In the Ebisubashi entertainment district of Osaka, it's a 'couples' ferris wheel, with enclosed bubble-like capsules that slowly revolve to give a panorama of the city. This part of Osaka was like something out of Bladerunner (although it wasn't raining) - the amount of neon and huge illuminated signs and billboards was staggering. You really feel like you're in a high-tec modern city when it dazzles you like this. I'm not sure why the front of the ferris wheel has a large man hugging a worried-looking penguin wearing a santa hat on it, but I'm sure there's an explanation.



The best view of the holiday - one of the three 'Best Views of Japan' in fact, as decided by the Japanese themselves. This is the o-torii gate of Itsukushima on the island of Miyajima, just off the coast of Hiroshima. We stayed there for two days, and saw this wonderful gate in all conditions - day/night, sun/cloud, high/low tide. Designed as an approach to a floating temple in 597AD, it's 16m high and lit up at night by the spotlight on the right. The temple and shoreline were really busy during the day, but deserted at night. I sat on a stone bench with a can of Kirin I got from a vending machine - something that would be inconceivable in the UK, and took this photo.

...and back to the grind

The end of the trip


Two days back at work, but thankfully the novelty hasn't quite worn off yet. Being back at my old job in the routine I last slotted into 13 months ago is slightly strange. I see loads of people walking around at work that I recognise (open plan office), but they all seem slightly different. But because I've not seen them for so long, I'm not quite sure what it is about them that isn't the same as I remember. Anyway, they all seem pleased to see me and I've spent a couple of days having predictably similar conversations with everyone - which I enjoyed, as talking about what I've been up to brings it all back.

I discovered that the computer department hadn't removed my network setup at all - in fact when I logged on in a cheerfully hopeful fashion I got straight back into my desktop. How many emails would you get at work in a year? I had 2,121 in my inbox - that's a lot of cars with lights left on and broken vending machine notifications (two of the most common at our work). It took well over a minute to delete them all - I stared at the animation of the piece of paper crumpling in midair whilst flying into a bucket (as if guided by some mysterious unseen power) for almost two minutes before all 2,121 were consigned to the electronic dustbin of history. Ah well, it passed the time. Anyway, there are new people there to talk to, new things to do, and at the moment - a new route to work - so it's all fun and games. How long to the weekend again?

Back to the 'burgh

Edinburgh skyline from Calton Hill


My enormously long, complex and exciting circular journey ended at Platform 10 of Edinburgh Waverley station last Monday. After thirteen months, eleven flights and countless miles I was back where it all started. I can remember my last day in Edinburgh, dragging a huge bag to the station as the police helicopters buzzed overhead for the official opening of the Scottish Parliament. That had been a glorious early Autumn day, but as I walked back into the city last Monday the weather had turned cold and threatening. Of course, that's something of a novelty for me at the moment, so I'm in a kind of honeymoon period where the inevitably awful Scottish weather is rather charming. We'll see how long that lasts. At the moment I'm enjoying my last few days of freedom until I return to work on Monday morning, walking along the rain-slicked streets looking at my favourite city with renewed vigour.

I know there's that famous saying about only appreciating where you live when you've been away from it for a while (although the actual saying is probably more snappy than that). Based on these past few days, I would agree with that. I think if you are fortunate enough to live somewhere you truly love then after a long time there it loses something of it's magic. Inevitable, I suppose - like eating your favourite meal every night until you get sick of it. I was far from sick of Edinburgh, but the year's break has certainly had an effect on the way I look at it. Living in Sydney helped - undoubtably one of the world's greatest cities - indeed that was exactly why I chose to move there.

So the question I've been asked by almost everybody I've bored with my tales is - "Are you glad to be back?" My answer, predictably, is "Yes and no". "That's a cop-out answer" the person usually replies, at which point I tell them I don't need a new kitchen fitted and put the phone down. As I covered above, being back here removes a lot of the downside of returning to the UK from Australia. Surprisingly I'm also not too bothered about going back to work (and I'm not just saying that because my boss reads this). That's partly because I worked whilst I was abroad so haven't just been travelling. and partly because I don't really do much when I'm there anyway (that's a joke, Dorothy). I've spoken to people who had been on a gap year-style global jaunt for twelve months and the thought of returning to an office horrified them almost to the point where they were desperate to keep travelling. Thankfully I'm not up there at all. I always knew my time away was just for a year, so I prepared myself for the inevitable end. That end has come, but at least I've plenty of things to daydream about as I sit at my desk on Monday (another joke there, honestly....)

Bonus Japan photos

Some bonus photos of the Japan trip, which seems like a while ago now but still lives in the memory. This is a night view over Shinagawa with the railway station in the foreground, and the Tokyo Tower rising like a shaft of light on the far left. This was the view from our hotel window.



This gives an idea of the scale of a typical gatehouse at a Buddhist temple, in this case Engaku-ji in Kamakura, about an hour south of Toyko. Made entirely from wood, slotted together without any nails, the temple was spread over a large area. Designed to be enjoyed in peaceful reflection, any quiet was drowned out by the loud grating of cicadas in the trees.



Buying sweetened bean paste in the market at Nakamise-dori, Asakusa. At least I think that's what it was - it was very good. Chewy dough-like balls on skewers, coated in some sugary powder, traditional Japanese snack food.



Your author relaxing in the ryokan in Kyoto, wearing the typical Japanese robe, or yukata. The woman on my left is the server, who every other night (there were two of them and they worked alternate nights) set up our dinner and brought in all the various small courses. This gives a good idea of the basic style of furnishing that roykans have.



Another photo of yours truly looking at the Bridge to Heaven in Amanohashidate in the appropriate way. The netting was there in case you overbalanced and went over the edge, I think. As I said before, it really didn't look like a bridge ascending to heaven - but maybe I wasn't imagining it hard enough...



Also at Amanohashidate, this was on the roof of the small ferry we took back from the base of the viewing platform to the railway station at the other end of the sand spit. The wheel wasn't connected to anything, presumably it was just for tourists to take pictures of each other looking daft - so I was only too happy to oblige.



Picture-postcard view of a fountain, this one in a Shinto cemetary in Kamakura. The water slowly flowed along each successive bamboo section, before dripping into the stone containers. We weren't sure if it was for drinking, or another of the many purification troughs that are positioned outside temples/shrines for you to cleanse yourself before beginning to pray.

Windy Lytham

An old boat rusting in the mudflats


For some reason the weather (which I haven't mentioned for a while) went crazy today - sunny all day with temperatures of 21C even in Northern Scotland, setting all kinds of UK records. Apparently the Highlands of Scotland were warmer than most of the Caribbean - albeit a hurricane-lashed Caribbean - which is still fairly impressive. So taking advantage of the evils of climate change, I headed off for a day out somewhere random. Not entirely random, but I got to the train station and had a look at the departure screen to pick somewhere to go. Ironically the first destination on the monitor was Edinburgh - I should have been there today but for a mild problem with finding somewhere to stay until after the weekend. After that came Blackpool North (Blackpool has three railway stations - as far as I know only London has more in the UK)* but of course I was there only the other day. Next up, proving my point, was Blackpool South - but on the way the train was calling at a variety of small coastal towns that sounded a decent bet, so I chanced my arm and hopped on that one.

I got off at Lytham, which together with it's close neighbour St Annes forms another of the old-style resorts on the Lancashire coastline from Southport through to Blackpool, Morecambe and beyond. Once again the memories of childhood days out came back to me - and I'm not that old - but the front at Lytham was exactly as I remember. Maybe the whole of the Lancashire coast is marooned in the bountiful tourist days of the past. Having said that, the combination of a nice day and half-term school holidays meant there were people everywhere. Unfortunately there was also a screeching wind, that fair ripped off the mudflats and over the coastal path. Lytham sits on the Ribble Estuary, the river that flows through Preston, and is at the mercy of the onshore winds that tend to buffet the casual visitor on a regular basis. It was good news for some though, and a couple of hardy kite surfers were out on the narrow channel hurtling along behind lofty crescents of coloured material. Birds were taking advantage too, and I watched as a grey kestrel hung almost motionless in the fierce wind, scanning the reed banks for small animals, before quickening my pace and heading back for the shelter of the station.




*feel free to prove me wrong, enthusiasts...

The Lancashire Riviera

The churning seas at Blackpool

I hadn't been to Blackpool for almost ten years, which for a proud Lancastrian like myself is something of a scandal, as only the Scots go to Blackpool more often than us locals. I'm not sure why that is - but the souvenir shops there stock Scottish football merchandise, so there must be a lot of visitors from North of the border. People obviously buy the t-shirts of a cartoon man in a Celtic kit urinating on a Rangers kit (and vice versa), otherwise they wouldn't be on sale in all the souvenir shops lining the seafront. I certainly heard plenty of Scottish accents while I was walking around - the first I'd heard for a long time, of course.

The world's biggest/slowest trams

It was great to see that Blackpool had hardly changed at all since I was last there. After walking out of the station and through a grimy underpass the first thing I saw was a middle-aged man vomiting in the street, with shoppers deliberatly ignoring him as only British people can. I ignored him too, and walked along a street to the beach, passing charity shops and others selling novelties, souvenirs and tea - the three cornerstones on which Blackpool was built. I reached the front and crossed over the famous tram tracks - Blackpool trams have to be the largest in the world - one rumbled past me at 3mph which looked like a Boeing 747 without the wings (and had a large advert for a strip club on the side). Here the biting wind really stung, so I went into the amusements on the North Pier to escape.

10p pieces defying the laws of gravity

Again, the old North Pier looked exactly as it did when I used to go there as a boy - even the arcade machines were more or less the same. I couldn't find Operation Wolf though, which was a real shame - one of those dancing games with the footpads had taken it's place near the main doors. A crowd had gathered around two girls playing it, who were grimly holding on to a bar whilst marching along to steps displayed on the flashing screen in front of them. They must have been enjoying it, but really didn't look as if they were. As I wandered around looking for ways to rid myself of 10p coins (again, Blackpool doesn't seem to increase prices over the years) I realised that the last gaming arcades I had been in were the incredible multi-storey ones in Osaka. The other side of the world, but I was struck by the similarities - the serious faces of concentrating gamers, the resigned look of the serial fruit machine addicts, and of course the grapple-arm machines so beloved by arcade goers in both countries. The other Blackpool institution are the 'balancing cliff-top' machines, where dropping a 10p (or 2p) into the continually advancing and retreating layers causes those at the edge to be pushed off for you to collect (or not, in my case).

Donkey rides on the beach

The wind was ripping in from the Irish Sea, causing the brown sea to foam as it rolled over the sand. A sewage-laden microbe paradise it may be (bacteria come to Blackpool on holiday too), but the beach there looks really good. A few hardy souls were down there, including the ubiquitous donkey rides. I can't recall ever having been on a donkey at Blackpool, but there can't be a more typical English seaside pastime. Eating chips out of a deckchair in the rain, maybe, I suppose. No rain the day I was there though, as the strong wind soon blasted the clouds inland and the sun came out. I walked parallel to the sea, taking in the classic Blackpool landmarks - the tower, piers, trams, etc. I passed the un-fun-looking Funland, which proudly boasted that their cups of tea were 'still only 10p'. I noticed they also did fish, chips, peas, bread and butter and tea for a not unreasonable £1.99. This is one reason why Blackpool is so popular.

Blackpool's North Pier, built in 1863

The biggest reason though is that if you go on holiday there you know exactly what you're going to get. The resort town has practically the same things to do now as it did 20, 30yrs ago - and in some cases exactly the same things. Why go somewhere foreign where the food is different and you can't understand the language? When you book a holiday in Blackpool you know you'll be getting fish and chips, cheap beer, candy floss and funny plastic hats. The town can be summed up by a leaflet I was given on the North Pier. Despite now being owned by 'Leisure Parcs Ltd', the 142yr old pier has been maintained in order to keep the essence of romance and history that makes it so distinctly different. So too Blackpool - a resort well over a hundred years old purposely kept as it is - because if you come once and like it, chances are you'll be coming back...

Final Four - 4

Green Park, London, in the Autumn sunshine


I suppose that's more or less it. Back in the UK, only two weeks until I go back to work, and all the travelling is over. My flight from Seoul Incheon to Heathrow was as uneventful as you can hope for, and before I knew it I was on the Tube, being jolted around as the train rattled across London. It was good to be back on the tube again, but you certainly notice the bumpy ride when you've been spoiled by the smooth running of transport in Japan. It was also good to be back in the cold - dull, grey Autumn weather had taken over and it was as cold as I'd felt probably since I was in New Zealand in May. I spent about a week in London, and had a couple of touristy days walking around parts of the city. It's great to be back in the UK, despite it meaning the end of my travels. Sitting on a bench in Green Park watching the holidaymakers filing towards Buckingham Palace I was able to do a spot of reflecting on the mammoth distances I'd covered over the past twelve months. Technically I've still not yet finished, as I've got to get back to Edinburgh where it all began, but after having visited four countries in four days I'll take at least a couple of weeks before I get back there. Of course, there's only one place you need to come to find out how I get on...

Final Four - 3

No photos for me to upload for this leg of the journey - when I arrived in Korea I had no idea what to expect of my overnight layover - but in the end it turned out well. After the plane landed - a 10hr flight from Sydney - I went through the usual immigration/customs stuff and gave my voucher to the Korean Air service desk at the terminal. I'd predicted that it would be an airport hotel us layover passengers would be plonked in, and I was right - we got on a bus and were driven for about 3mins to the Hyatt Regency Incheon Airport. I suppose it was a bit far-fetched of me to hope we'd be bussed to central Seoul so I could have a wander around and see a bit of Korea, but seeing as it was all free I'm not complaining.

When I booked my ticket here (and it seems like 5yrs ago that I did) I got the cheapest (of course) flight I could find from Heathrow to Sydney - and Korean Air had a crazy cheap deal, so I signed up for that. Only downside was a long layover at the airport on the way back - but I've slept in airports before so I knew I could do it again. When I went into the Korean Air office in Sydney to reschedule my ticket home, they told me I'd be put up in a hotel and driven to and from the airport, free of charge. Fantastic - much better than a bench at the airport. As it turned out, it was much much better (I'm writing this at an internet terminal waiting for my flight to London). The Hyatt is a typical swish hotel - just the same as the fancy hotels I'd been enjoying in Japan for the last couple of weeks.

Problem was, Incheon airport is built on an island off the Western coast of Korea, so by the time I'd checked in and had my free dinner (very nice it was too) it was almost 9pm and I had no time to try and escape to the city. I didn't fancy walking around the airport boundary fence, or swimming for the mainland, so I just stayed in the hotel room and used as much free hotel stuff as I could. This morning, it was a free breakfast buffet and the bus back here for my flight. So not as exciting a stopover as I'd hoped for - but considering what I got for free it was extremely good service. I guess I've been flying with budget no-frills airlines for too long. Anyway, it's another whopping flight soon and then in several hours I'll be back in Europe - my third continent in three days. Just look me up in the dictionary under jet-setting...

Final Four - 2

The gleaming Opera House - 11th October 2005

So this is my final day in Australia. I arrived at about 7am with no problems from Narita, and got the train back to my old flat - after I moved out to go to Japan they managed to fill my room. I dumped my stuff, had a shower, and went out to do some basic jobs like close down my bank account. The weather was perfect - 26C and sunny - a classic Sydney day. I used to watch TV programmes where people talked about moving to Australia because (in part) the weather was so much better. I scoffed at the time, of course, but when you're over here and it's sunny, warm with a light breeze every day for two weeks it's just great. Not good for the water situation, of course, but for those of us on a limited timescale it makes a huge difference.

The Harbour Bridge with ferry underneath

I walked around to the Opera House and the Botanic gardens one last time. It was lunchtime, so the footpath by the water that winds around to Mrs Macquarie's Chair was busy with joggers, escaping the office for some temporary and frantic exercise. The Opera House was glistening in the sun, as white as I've seen it. I then got a ferry (the Charlotte) across the harbour to Milson's Point and walked back over the Harbour Bridge. I'll definately come back - but for now that was a fitting end, I think. Tomorrow morning it's back to Asia and an overnight stop in Korea.

Last look at the Opera House...for now

I'm not sure how I can sum up and entire year into a snappy paragraph. I think the posts I've been producing are a testament to how much I've enjoyed coming over here. The decision to uproot and move to the other side of the world is a huge one - even if I had the safety net of a one-year visa and my old job guaranteed when I got back. The challenge of fitting into a new city and culture where I didn't know more than a handful of people was greater than I imagined - but I never found it hard. I think that was in part due to the Aussies, who are to a man and woman the nicest bunch of people you could meet. Their relaxed attitude to life - even in (by their standards) hectic Sydney helps you adjust. Plus the relative ease I had in getting somewhere to live, and then a job, also helped. I really landed on my feet with the flat, it was a great place to live.

So that's it - the end of the best 12 months of my life. Well, not really the end, as I won't be back at my desk until the 7th of November, and there's a bit of travelling to do first. I've loved writing this blog, hopefully you've enjoyed reading it - thanks for all your comments. Rest assured I'll keep on writing DUaB after I get back to Edinburgh, I'm sure I can find something to write about. But for the Australian part of my trip - that's it...

Rich

Final four - 1

This is the crazy travelling week, that signifies the end of my twelve months away from the UK. Today was my last day in Tokyo - tomorrow I fly to Sydney, where I've got roughly 24hrs before I fly to Seoul, South Korea. After 18hrs there I fly to London the next day. So that's four cities in four days, on three continents, including Asia twice. I've no idea how many thousands of miles that is - if I was planting trees to offset my carbon emissions this week I'd be reforesting half of Amazonia. When you think that the first people that came to Australia from the UK took years of bouncing around on wooden ships, my upcoming travels seem incredible - in the next four days I'll be covering the same distance those Elizabethan mariners covered over the course of their careers, if they were lucky enough to get to the end. I've just got to sit in a seat and read the paper. Still, that's progress.

Fuji TV headquarters

My last day in Japan was another wet one. We were reasonably lucky with the weather - we had three wet days out of 15, so it's not too bad. Unfortunately we only had one day of sun - all the others were overcast, grey and humid. But there's not much you can do about the weather. After visiting a Japanese internet cafe - with individuals cubicles containing a fast PC, reclining seat, footstool, slippers, safe, TV, and PlayStation 2 - we took the Toei Oedo line subway to Shiodome. Again, it looked like the entire line was brand new, at least either that or they keep it utterly spotless. At Shiodome we transferred onto the Yurikamome monorail (another rail-based transport system we used on this trip) to Odaiba Island. Odaiba is all built on land reclaimed from the Tokyo Bay estuary, and is home to dozens of massive, astonishing buildings, like the HQ of the FujiTV empire pictured above.

Geo-Cosmos at the Miraikan, Odaiba Island

We got off and visited the Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation - Miraikan. It's a hands-on science museum with displays on the human body, space, biology and chemistry. The undoubted highlight is Geo-Cosmos, the world's first spherical LED display unit. Essentially it's the equivalent of a wall of TV's, but very small TV's, and arranged in a sphere. It displays the Earth from space, other planets, and global weather systems. You look at it by lying down, and staring up at the changing colours. As we watched, the scientist clicked a button and the global weather patterns for a couple of weeks ago appeared, and we all watched Hurricane Katrina roll into the Gulf States of the US. He then went on to display rising sea and land temperatures - it was incredible.

Otorii of Miyajima, at night

After that we zipped back to Shinjuku where I picked up my bags and dashed for the Narita Express (the same way we started the holiday), saying goodbye to my father as I went. He's got an extra day on his own in Tokyo before flying back to the UK. Thanks so much for letting me show you Japan Dad - I loved every minute of it. I sat on the Narita express watching the neon-lit suburbs flow past the window with a huge smile on my face. Japan is an amazing country - expensive, but down to earth - fast, but traditional - anonymous but friendly. I could go on, but I'll leave it there. It's a stunning country of contrasts, and anybody lucky enough to get the chance to go should get there and give it everything they've got - it won't disappoint.