The flashy and the simple

The Golden Temple of Kinkaku-ji

It seems that the desire to outdo your neighbour is a pretty universal thing. Whether it's buying a fancier car, having an extension built, or covering your temple with gold, getting that edge over your rivals is something that is sought the world over. When Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu planned a retirement villa in 1397, gold was the obvious choice for an outside colour scheme. Constructed on a reflecting lake, the Golden Temple of Kinkaku-ji is one of Japan's best-known sights. As expected, everything in the temple grounds is simply yet perfectly arranged, to maximise the visual impact. The care taken with these historic sights is wonderfully obsessive - at every temple or shrine we've seen countless gardeners, crowd directors, cleaners, and ticket inspectors. What we often can`t find are information guides - my Lonely Planet devotes two paragraphs to Kinkaku-ji, and there were no English maps available so we were reduced to wandering around guessing as to what it all meant, which was sad as the temple was breath-taking. The one piece of information I did find out was that the current temple above was built only in 1955 - a monk so obsessed with it's beauty burned it to the ground in 1950, presumably to stop others from looking at it.

The Zen rock garden at Ryoan-ji

The frustrations that we felt at Kinkaku-ji are universal at Ryoan-ji. The highlight of this Zen temple (founded in 1450) is the garden. Not just a regular garden, Ryoan-ji has the quintessential Buddhist rock and gravel garden. About the size of half a tennis court, the garden consists of 15 rocks adrift in a sea of carefully-raked gravel. The Japanese don't know what it means, as the designer - who remains unknown - never explained what the meaning was. One thing that is apparent is that no matter where you stand, you can't see all 15 rocks - at least one is always hidden.

Detail of a wall at Nijo Castle

The next stop for me was Nijo Castle. I'd wanted to look at a non-religious old building - and Nijo-jo was constructed in 1603 by one of the most infamous of all Shoguns - Tokugawa Ieyasu. Tokugawa came to power in 1600 and moved the capital to Edo (present-day Tokyo). He introduced a strict regime, took control of ports, mines and cities, and closed the entire country to foreigners. For the next 268yrs Japan developed in complete isolation. Any Japanese who ventured abraod were executed immediately if they returned.

Obviously being an important figure Tokugawa had his enemies. He met rival warlords at Nijo Castle in specially-designed rooms. You can walk around (but not inside) these today, and see exactly where these supressed nobles knelt to pay their respects to the Shogun. Wary of assassins, Tokugawa had the floor constructed so that every footstep produces a squeak. Tiny hooked pins under each floorboard rub against eachother, making it impossible to creep silently through the corridors - they are known as 'Nightingale' floors. Also in the castle are fake sections of wall made from thin paper that show the shadow of any would-be assailant, trapdoors in the ceiling for armed guards to leap from - and in the long meeting hall itself, the Shogun would sit at the far end next to a secret door. Inside were heavily-armed Samurai, ready to spring from hiding and defend their master from any surprise attackers. These methods must have been efficient - as despite a life filled with bloodshed and slaughter, Tokugawa died of natural causes in his sleep, aged 74.

Philosophy and religion

The Heian Shrine, Kyoto


Japan has two major religions - Shinto and Buddhism - and most Japanese practice at least both (and some Christianity and Confucianism as well). Kyoto has hundreds of shrines and temples, many dotted in the forested hillsides that ring the city. The Nanzen-ji temple in Eastern Kyoto is a good example. Originally built in 1291 it was razed during a civil war in the 1400's. The buildings there today date from 'only' 400yrs ago, but walking around the huge pagodas it seems as if they have been there for many hundreds of years more. We paid Y500 (GBP2) and climbed a two-story gatehouse - in our socks as it is part of the Buddhist temple building. Another Y500 bought us tea in an adjacent building - but it was very different to a cup of Earl Grey and a digestive. We knelt, shoeless, in front of a waterfall framed by a dark green garden. A kimono-clad woman appeared and knelt on the tatami matting in front of us, presenting us with an earthenware bowl of foamy green tea (ocha) and a carefully wrapped sticky sweet.

The Tetsugaku-no-michi (Path of Philosophy) is apparently a good place for a contemplative stroll. We wandered along as a route between temples, looking at the cherry trees the Japanese have a particular fondness for, and the small fish, swimming frantically against the strong current in the stream. The path finished at Ginkakuji, created in 1482 as a weekend retreat by a Shogun. He wanted to cover the two-story pavilion in silver, but the tough nature of the Shogunate life claimed him before he could sign the cheque. The grounds were interesting though, being dominated by moss. There were labelled displays of the particular 'very important moss' that carpeted the forest floor. Gardeners were on hand, performing minute weeding underneath the trees.

Just one of the dishes for dinner


Traditional Japanese guesthouses are called ryokans. Ours is reasonably modern in parts, but the rooms are all tatami matting and you sleep on futons (pronounced 'huton' as the Japanese haven't an equivalent for the letter F) laid out on the floor. We changed into long cotton yukata robes printed with a jazzy white and blue pattern. Dinner was served in our room - just my Dad and me seated at a low table, with the elderly hostess distributing our food. After carefully (and exactly) arranging our dishes, she bowed and left us to it.

The food was amazing - almost like a Japanese form of tapas - many delicate bowls and plates of sashimi, tofu, egg, soup and tempura. It all looked far too good to eat, the preparation time must have been incredible. It all tasted good as well - despite over half of what we ate being simply unrecognisable. Of course you can identify a raw prawn (they melt in your mouth as you eat them) - but there were blobs of this and cubes of that which we couldn't even determine if it was animal or vegetable. It's an odd experience eating something that you can't identify - but certainly makes dining more exciting...

Toyko - Kyoto

Train lunch - Japanese style


The literal translation of the word 'Shinkansen' is 'new trunk line'. Not as exciting a meaning as it could be perhaps, but riding on the bullet train (a phrase which isn't used in Japan) is about as classical a Japanese experience as you can get. I'm not going to start the obvious comparisons with rail travel in the UK - but let's just say it woiuld take many, many leaves on the line to delay one of these things.

We arrived at Tokyo station early enough to buy an obento (boxed) lunch. After taking our allocated position on the platform (oh yes), the white torpedo-shaped train cruised slowly alongside. The journey to Kyoto took about three hours, but seemed faster - probably because of the scenery belting past the window at about the speed of sound. Every member of staff who passed through our carriage bowed to the passengers - from the guard to the young lad pushing the drinks trolley.

At first glance, Tokyo and Kyoto seem at completely opposing ends of the spectrum. The one exception is Kyoto station - it has several layers of platforms underground and then a nine-floor retail arcade on top. The pictures I took cannot possibly do it justice - imagine if the Death Star had a shopping mall - that might give you some idea of what it looks like. As I said though, that's the exception - the Kyoto we saw from our taxi (which in itself was immaculately presented) was very different to Tokyo. Admittedly we've only seen a fraction of each, but the first impression I got of Kyoto was the old age of the place. Of course, this is because Kyoto was deliberately avoided by the Allied bombers during WWII - you can only imagine what Tokyo would have looked like today.

Playing hunt the Geisha in Gion


To get a better idea of what Kyoto itself used to llok like, we joined a walking tour of the old Gion districts of the city. The guide was an ex-Canadian footballer (soccer player) who moved to Kyoto twelve years ago and married a geisha. Not surprisingly he knew an awful lot about the often-misunderstood profession, and was keen to quash some preconceptions. Geishas aren't prostitutes; they aren`t forced into their lifestyle; and apparently anybody can hire one. It`s not an easy process though - you need to become a member of a teahouse, which only happens if you are sponsored by a member and then attend dutifully for several years without incident.

Teahouses sign geishas like a sports team - and if you are well-liked you have a chance of hiring their star players. They sing, dance, play instruments, serve food and drink - essentially making you feel special. For this you can expect to pay several hundred dollars for the evening, assuming you are trusted enough to be left in their company. The walk was very interesting - I hadn`t a clue about the role of a geisha - but when we actually spotted one the mood instantly changed. They don't mind being photographed, apparently, and we saw a couple walking to their evening appointments - which prompted a barrage of photographs and the walk became something of a duck hunt.

The best part by far however, was when the guide (who was over 6ft and 20stone, by the look of him) hurriedly ushered us to one side of the street. Tottering in our direction was a wizened old man in sunglasses and a battered yellow t-shirt. He was walking a small dog, and a man my age dressed in black was qiuetly at his side. Our guide nervously whispered that this was a retired yakuza gang boss, and that we mustn't take pictures of him. Everyone obediently lowered their cameras as the old man approached. 'Good Evening he said, and turned the corner, his minder checking the road for cars.

Old and new Tokyo

All you can glimpse of the Emporer`s Palace

A later start today, thankfully, and a chance to sample the buffet breakfast laid on by the Shinagawa Prince. It took place in a huge dining room, with various self-service food stalls. You could choose from Western breakfast with the usual things like bacon and eggs - and spaghetti, for some reason, or two types of Asian food. We all went for the Japanese breakfast as we`ve become used to the style - miso soup, sushi, rice, small pieces of pickle and egg. It was pretty good, although the curry I tried from the Chinese stall tasted a bit odd. Maybe it was having it for breakfast.

We took Mum back to Narita airport for her flight to London, and then came back to get our bags from Shinagawa and transfer to our new hotel in Ginza. This is the older part of the city - part of the `low city` where the original merchants lived. Today it is full of swanky department stores - a different kind of merchant activity. Our hotel is nice enough though - no aquarium but it`s got all the right things in the room, including another eletronic toilet. I`ll have to write something about that at some point.

We took a short train ride to the Imperial Palace and had a look at the corner of one building that you can see. The Palace is only open on two days out of every year, so for the rest of the time you`re reduced to craning your neck at a distant (and probably unused) wing. The grounds are an odd mix of acres of gravel for parades, immaculately manicured lawns with clipped trees, and a four-lane road that is constantly clogged with rumbling traffic. An odd place to put a road, but I suppose it`s no worse than Buckingham Palace and the cars that run around that.

So we had our old parts of Tokyo - in the evening we took the train to Akihabara. Also known as `Electric Town`, it is an entire city area crammed full of electronic shops, computer games showrooms, model and curio shops, and costume shops. We wandered around for a while staring at the neon and flashing from every angle. One shop we went in was the 7-floor Radio Hall, which sold every kind of plastic toy imaginable. You know those large plastic spheres you see outside newsagents for kids to put in a pound coin and get a large plastic egg with a toy inside? This place had a floor of just those. To my joy, I found one that dispensed models of crabs, and stuffed in Y200 (GBP1) as fast as I could. Despite wanting the spider crab, I got a swimmer crab, but it`s still the best crab model I own. Another shop we went in - Aso Bit City - also had seven floors, but of different types of models. You had a floor of cars, then planes, then remote-control cars, then boats and ships, then model railways (where I lost Dad) and above that toy guns. The top floor was a shooting range, where you could try out your purchased weapon. Tokyo is one amazing city...

Photos from Tsukiji

Here are some bonus photos of the scenes at Tsukiji fishmarket, to give you a better idea of what delights were on offer. This picture above shows a group of workers scything a tuna carcass in half using what looked to me like a ninja sword.



These cockle-like shellfish were about the size of a large potato each. Obviously popular as there were only two left, I can't imagine what you would do with them. Well, cook them and eat them, I suppose.



This colourful jumble of fish are the much-prized fugu - blowfish (or puffer fish as we would call them in the UK). According to things I've read, the actual taste is a bit bland - but they are eaten for their excellent texture and of course the sheer thrill of eating something poisonous that has the capacity to kill you. People do die eating it - albeit not that often. There's apparently a famous fugu saying that you should always let your dining companion take the first piece...



Arm-length sized squid all neatly laid out - everything was very well presented.



We arrived at 8:30am and a lot of the action was over. It seemed to me that the best bargains had gone early. We were wondering what happened to things like this head, and thought that there's probably someone who buys things like this for fish stock or animal food. I doubt much is wasted.



Live crabs trussed up for easy boiling. It was hard for me in places - I'm a fan of marine things of course - but I do like seafood, so of course you have to know things like this happen. The sushi breakfast we had afterwards was wonderful...

Tsukiji and Asakusa

Plenty of blood and guts at the fish market


So, fishmarkets. I remember going to the indoor fish market in Preston when I was young and staring at the fillets of cod and haddock behind the glass. A few years ago I went to the Sydney fishmarket and saw the computerised auction of prawns and seafood. Today I added another fishmarket to my collection - and one that is surely impossible to top. Tsukiji fishmarket in Tokyo is simply staggering. Every day 2,500 tonnes of seafood are sold there (a bit more than bought by the old women at Preston market). The daily bill for all the fish sold comes to Y2.9billion - that's GBP15m (or US$26m for my American readers) - and they only trade for 5 hours. GBP3m per hour in marine life. Amazing.

The market is just as I imagined - maintaining the theme I was talking about yesterday. It was frantically busy and seemed completely chaotic, but was very organised at the same time. Each stallholder had a set area of floorspace, and a tiny wooden hut at the back where a person sat to take the money. We arrived at 8:30 (it opens at 5am) and already a lot of them had sold out, shut up and gone home. As for what was on sale - just about anything. From bags of 1cm-long see-through baby eels to tuna heads the size of sheep. All kinds of fish, both dead and alive, shellfish - including mussels almost at long as your forearm, crabs, octopus, squid.

Walking between the narrow lanes of stalls was a mission, with buyers and workers rushing everywhere. Motorised pallet trucks zipped all over, transporting white polystyrene boxes around. Outside a mountain of these two stories high was piled up - after all, 2,500t of fish need a lot of boxes. We wandered around trying to avoid getting in the way, and just looking at the sheer variety of things on offer. One thing I wasn`t prepared for was the blood - all over the hanger-sized building men were hacking and chopping, using lethal-looking axes, knives and hooks to dismember unfortunate creatures who were only swimming around that morning. But hey, I`m no hypocrite - we went for a sushi breakfast at the market and it was amazing.

Beatiful pagoda at Senso-ji temple


After Tsukiji we walked for a few minutes to the Hamarikyu-teien, or detached palace garden. It was here that the early shogunate hunted ducks, and so wanted a more picturesque setting whilst they were waiting for the birds to fly into their nets. The garden sits on the edge of the Sumida, and is surrounded on the other three sides by skyscrapers. From there we took a boat ride up the river to the old shopping area of Asakusa. The river cruise was interesting, but both sides of the Sumida have been channelled, dredged and built up so much it was very industrial. Still good though - interesting to see how people live so close to the water.

Asakusa has been a centre of entertainment, religion and shopping since the 13th Century, and is one of the parts of old Edo (Tokyo in the time of the Shoguns). We walked around and looked in the millions of small touristy shops on Nakamise-dori before the giant Senso-ji temple. Another Buddhist temple, this one is for Kannon - the Goddess of Mercy, and was founded in 628 after two fishermen pulled a statue of her out of the Sumida. A temple has stood there ever since. It was interesting to watch people praying - unlike yesterday`s remote temples Senso-ji is bustling and active. You could pay Y100 and take a paper fortune from a drawer - they can be either good or bad. Mine was a 'Regular Fortune' - apparently 'talk with tongue entangled by your getting drunk gives no unpleasant impression to others'. That's always good to know. My Mum had two attempts and my Dad one - all three were 'Bad Fortunes' of marriage and financial strife ahead. Fortunately if you tied the piece of paper your fortune was written on to a nearby wire rack, it negated it and you were back to square one - with nothing bad hanging over you. Handy that...

Ohayo gozaimasu

Detail of the roof of Engaku-ji temple

Well here I am. I`m writing this on a kanjii-enabled keyboard on the 7th floor of our hotel in Shinagawa - the Shinagawa Prince. I`ve only seen hotels like this when I was in Las Vegas all those years ago - it`s enormous. There are thousands of rooms - the hotel is divided into about half a dozen buildings and has it`s own shopping mall, aquarium (with shark tunnel and dolphinarium), two cinemas and an IMAX, two bowling alleys (two!) and sixteen restaurants. It`s mammoth - essentially a city within a city - within a city, as Shinagawa is huge as of itself. Anyway, we arrived with no problems from Sydney, as overnight flights go it was reasonable. The plane had a party of 104 Japanese schoolkids returning from language schools in Australia, but they were down the back of the 747.

So what are my first impresssions of Japan? Well, I`ve spent so long planning this trip, reading about it, etc, that it was pretty much as I was expecting. That`s not to say it was a disappointment - the exact opposite, it`s amazing. Tokyo is so vast, so busy, so hyped with energy. The 25th floor view we have overlooks the grey tower blocks of the central city, merging with the smoggy haze hanging over the city. In the distance we can see the Bladerunner-esque lights of Shinjuku glittering away. Eveything is fast paced, people bow to you, taxi drivers wear white gloves, there are vending machines everywhere, Japanese TV is bizarre - it`s all present and correct. You just have to go into a supermarket and see how alien a place you`ve arrived in. I can`t wait to explore more tomorrow.

Dad at the Tokeiji temple

Today was by necessity a slow day, as we arrived off the plane at 6am. We converted our JR passes - the multiple-use rail ticket that covers all of Japan`s JR railways for two weeks - and were given an immediate train reservation for the Tokyo express that left within three minutes. So after legging it down to one of many platforms we were soon winging our way into the city. Fortunately our hotel is near the station, but unfortunately we arrived at 10am and couldn`t check-in until 1pm. So we left our bags with them and had a GBP15 cup of tea in the cafe before taking a train trip. Oh - that`s GBP15 for three of us, by the way, not each. We caught a local train from Shinagawa via the port city of Yokohama to Kamakura - an early centre of the Buddhist faith. We spent the afternoon wandering amongst leafy temples and cemetaries, looking at crows, eagles, and amazing butterflies. The trees looked ancient - some of the sites were constructed in the 1300`s. After a few hours the tiredness set in and we returned to the city. It was a short, but good, introduction to the Japanese way of life (and death) and was a great way to spend an afternoon. Tomorrow is the first full day, and it`s going to start nice and early...(again)

Near to the off...

The pre-dinner photo


Well, these are now the last days for me in Australia - tomorrow I'm off to Tokyo. I spent most of the day today sorting out my stuff - which to be honest didn't take all that long. I made a conscious decision not to acquire the usual amount of crap that I tend to do when I'm living somewhere, as I knew I'd have to either throw it away or somehow carry it all home. In the end I had to buy a small suitcase-type thing to take care of the overspill from what I'm taking to Japan. It only cost $18 (GBP7) though, so no great expense. Even so, it took me a few hours to organise what I am going to need over the next couple of weeks and what I'm not. Oh - and in the afternoon I watched the AFL Grand Final and cheered the mighty Swans on to their first Premiership for 72yrs. Go the Swans.

Tonight I went out for dinner in Surry Hills with my flatmates (see picture above taken beforehand), to a very fancy Thai restaurant. The prices were similar to the French place we went to a few weeks ago but the portions were about twenty times the size. I ate so much that when we went for a drink at a nearby pub I could hardly finish it. Unlike me, I know. Anyway, so that's it for my stint living in Sydney. Tomorrow it's off for two weeks in Japan - which I can't wait for. I've been planning this for so long that when our plane rolls up to the terminal in Narita I'll be hopping about like a 3yr old at Christmas. Expect lots of photos and a fair bit of blogging. Oh yes. After the two weeks there, I'll be back in Sydney for 24hrs (the 11th October if you're taking notes) and then from there it's a flight to Seoul and another overnight stop on the way back to London. Bring it on! See you in Tokyo...

WA Coast day 4

Taking photos at Shell Beach


The four days went very quickly, but I always knew it was going to be a fast tour. The final day of my trip was more relaxed than the previous three - we set off at 10:30, for one thing. I had a wander on the beach at Coral Bay before we got underway. We drove up to Exmouth and checked into our holiday park hostel, which was pretty good value for $20. Exmouth was founded in 1967 to support a US submarine tracking base. We rolled through it and round Cape Vlamingh (he of Rottnest Island fame), which today houses the mothballed Harold Holt Communications station - the Australian Prime Minister who vanished off the face of the earth whilst out for his morning swim in the 60's (not here though). Today they site is abandoned, and lies rusting under the unyielding sun. The peninsula is famous for more than that however - the Ningaloo Reef lies off the Western tip. The Ningaloo is Buzz Aldrin to the Great Barrier Reef's Neil Armstrong, but is quietly becoming more popular. The big draw there - apart from the usual coral - are the Whale Sharks that cruise lazily up the coast from May to July each year. Wrong time of year for us, though.

We stopped off at Turquoise Bay - a beautiful snorkelling spot. This was your classic tropical reef beach - white sand, clear water, warm breeze. Steve the driver produced a battered box of snorkelling gear, and we all had a go. Although being a pretty rubbish swimmer, I saw a few different kinds of fish in waist deep water - although it would have been great to go out over the reef - I'm just not good enough to negociate the currents. Still, it was great to see the fish that close up, and I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon, really. It was great.

On the way back to the holiday park things got better, though. We drove up to the Vlamingh lighthouse and Steve produced a box of wine and a pile of plastic cups, so we had a drink and watched the sun go down over the Eiffel Tower-sized communication pylons. Out in the bay, a series of splashes caught our attention, and suddenly a humpback whale breached the waves and crashed back into the sea. It was stunning - they were a long way out, but we were high up enough to see them all coming out of the water. Every 30 seconds a whale would come up for air, or splash out of the water. We saw two go almost completely out of the sea before slapping back with a huge white plume. That more than made up for the cancellation of my whale-watching tour in Kaikoura (which seems like such a long time ago). We weren't as close as a boat trip gets you, but these were wild whales splashing around in the afternoon - and we were up on a hill overlooking the sea it felt as if they were putting on a show for us. It was breathtaking - and a great way to end my trip. I flew back from Exmouth to Perth with a huge smile on my face...

WA Coast day 3

Dolphin checking out the crowd at Monkey Mia

Another dawn start today, but a chance to get as close to wild animals as you can get without jumping in the water. We saw a few native species on the trip - kangaroos (two of them boxing), a wombat, emus, wedge-tailed eagles, whales (more on that later), and dolphins. Just east of our second overnight stay at Denham is a place called Monkey Mia. 'Mia' means 'place of' in the local aboriginal language, and the Monkey was an early trading vessel that anchored in Shark Bay. For years a group of local dolphins have arrived at the beach each morning and are quite happy to swim in knee-deep shallows looking at tourists. They are fed - but carefully and are only given 5% of their daily needs so they don't become reliant. I'm not sure about that, but it was incredible to stand there and be a metre away from wild dolphins swimming around. You got the impression they were amused by it too - every so often they raised an eye out of the water and had an inquisitive peek. Of course, it's really popular, and there were about 100 people in a long line on the shore - but the dolphins don't seem to mind. You can't go any closer though, and touching isn't allowed - apparently human viruses are lethal to them.

After that we had a choice - go on a catamaran in the bay, or go for a nature walk with an aboriginal guide. Now I've been on plenty of boats - but have never talked to an aboriginie, so I chose that. It turned out that I was the only one - so I had a private tour of the bush for a couple of hours. The guide was called Capes, and was a member of the local Malgana people. I've lived in Australia for almost a year and done nothing aboriginal, so I was interested to hear what he had to say. We walked around, and he showed me tracks of the various animals and birds in the dark red sand. He talked about the influence of nature on their way of life - it's everything to them - and their outlook on how to conserve it. He explained how they catch goannas to eat - they listen for alarm calls of bush wrens, and use them as a guide for where the lizards are likely to be. He was pretty good at bird impressions, he did an alarm call and all the wrens flew up to check out the danger. It was all interesting, he picked a few native beans for me to eat - they tasted disappointingly beany. We saw loads of lizards and birds, but no mammals or snakes. He knew a heck of a lot though, and told me that schoolchildren in the Denham area are now learning aboriginal language in their school - even the white children. Oh, and that his tribe call ants 'mingers'.

WA Coast day 2

The Stromatolites at Hamelin Pool, Shark Bay

This morning started early - we set off at 7am every day, so get all those stereotypes about lazy backpackers out of your heads! There was a lot of dozing on the bus though - try riding for three hours in 25C heat and stay awake, it's tough. The first port of call today was close to our overnight stay at Kalbarri. We had a walk down one of the famous gorges - Kalbarri National Park has over 1000sqkm of them, so we had it to ourselves. At the bottom was a trickling river dyed a stunning green by massive amounts of algae. WA is home to all kinds of natural animals, but also feral foxes, goats, rabbits and pigs. There's a fence that runs along the length of the state border to keep them out, but it seems to be a losing battle. Fortunately there's a natural poison that all local animals are immune to, but introduced species aren't. There are a lot of poison warning notices everywhere.

One place we stopped in the afternoon was at Hamelin Pool - a special site for all biologists as it's one of only two places in the world where you can see living Stromatolites. What are they? Well, they are groups of simple bacteria that decided to live together in a colony for safety and produce a rocky home for themselves. Ordinarily, these footstool-shaped rocks would be unspectacular, but when you realise this action was the first instance of single-celled life joining together the importance strikes you. That moment was when simple life started the long path that resulted in everything else, including us. Stromatolites have been quietly going about their business, unchanged, for 2000 million years. They used to cover the entire planet, and did so for far far longer than all other forms of life put together. These rocks are special - and now they are only found at two salty bays on opposite sides of the world (the other being in the Bahamas). Hamelin Pool has every UNESCO World Heritage qualification there is. The examples in the photo are almost 3000yrs old. If you know me - you can imagine how stunning I found this. It was brilliant.

WA Coast day 1

The Pinnacles Desert

The only real way to see the coast is to get on a tourist bus and be driven about - at least if you can't hire a big 4WD and do it yourself. I booked myself on the Easyrider bus tour and had a four-day trip up the coastline of Western Australia from Perth to the northern reef destination of Exmouth. They do love those UK place names in Australia. It was very similar to the trip I took in New Zealand - the same kind of 'jump-on, jump-off' idea, but again I hadn't the time to jump off so I did the trip in one go. Actually as I write this they are still going as the trip continues to Darwin and takes almost two weeks.

The first stop was the Pinnacles Desert - aptly named as you can see. Hundreds of thousands of limestone pillars are scattered around the sand, and you can wander around anywhere you like. Early ship-bound explorers looking at the land thought it was a ruined city, which maybe explains why they kept crashing into reefs and sinking. It was very impressive, and I could have spent hours there - but bus travel being what it is we were off after half an hour. Still, it was worth seeing. The Easyrider buses run every four days - so if you wanted to jump off you really needed plenty of things to keep you occupied until the next one turned up.

The main difference I noticed with the NZ trip (and of course this is blindingly obvious) was the sheer distances involved. In NZ we would stop every hour or so and look at something, but here in WA there was hour after hour of arid scrubland and bush rolling past the windows. Have a look at an atlas - Western Australia is simply huge. It's the same size as India - but with 0.5% of India's population. This is a big, empty country. But a spectacular one...

Where Quokkas Rule

Not a rat - a Quokka

In 1696 the Dutch explorer Willem de Vlamingh avoided wrecking his ship like so many of his compatriots, and discovered an island off what became Fremantle. His men were amazed to find it covered in giant rats - much bigger than the ship rats they were used to. They camped for a couple of days, and then sailed away North leaving the furry mammals in peace. They named their discovery Rottnest Island - Rat's Nest. They were wrong, of course - the animals weren't rats, they weren't even mammals. The Dutch explorers became one of the first groups of Westerners to see marsupials, and the first ever to see Quokkas.

Once common over all of WA, Quokkas are now extremely rare - but thrive on Rottnest Island thanks to the isolation. A 20-minute boat trip from Fremantle, Rottnest is a small fish-shaped island perched on the edge of the Indian Ocean. I spent most of the day there, wandering around the beaches and paddling in the stunningly clear water. The island is famed for the white sandy beaches, and the wind keeps the temperature down when it gets too hot. Holiday homes dot the bays, and people have been coming here for many years. The island has a controversial past too - aboriginies charged with breaking settler's laws (concepts which most of them didn't understand of course) were sent to Rottnest to be interred.

So that's the Perth part of my trip over - for now at least. I'll be back here in a few days. Tomorrow I've got a 7am start on a bus trip up North into the Pinnacles Desert and the Kalbarri National Park. I'm not sure what internet access will be like up the WA coast - but if I can find a terminal I'll let you all know how I get on...

Freo to the locals

Old dock-type buildings in Fremantle

After wandering around Perth late yesterday I realised I'd pretty much done it. So today I took a train out of the city and visited the neighbouring port city of Fremantle. 'Freo' as the locals call it, is about 20mins from Perth, and is a proper working port, with massive container ships loading up right near the centre. The buildings have that old warehouse feel to them, and the ornate plasterwork everywhere reminded me of the restored docks in Hull. That's about it for that comparison though, as it was gloriously sunny and the air didn't have a fishy tang to it. I wandered around for a bit, admiring all the porty-goings on. Both Perth and Fremantle have one major bonus for tourists (and pensioners and students too, come to think of it) in that every bus that crosses the city centre is free. So you can hop on and off as much as you like - provided you know where you're going, of course.

I consulted the famed LP guidebook, and it led me to the 'stunning' and 'fascinating' Maritime Museum of Western Australia. It could quite easily have been both of these things, but unfortunately it was also 'half-closed' for 'renovation', so I'd whizzed around it in about 20 minutes. Still, that meant I went next door into the Fremantle Motor Museum - and that was much better. I'm no petrol-head (still have never got round to driving), but the cars there were great - including some old Formula 1 classics, which really got me interested. The entire collection is owned by one man (presumably a very rich man) - and he was there in overalls tinkering with one of the displays, doing some renovating of his own.

I know I said in an old post that I'm a museum junkie - but I outdid myself in Freo. In the afternoon I went to the Museum of Shipwrecks, and that was the best of the lot. They had all kinds of exhibits - apparently Western Australia is littered with wrecked ships from the hapless Dutch traders who ploughed into the rocky shores whilst trying to work their way up the coast to the then Dutch East Indies (Indonesia). The museum gave the impression that the Dutch were practically hurling their ships onto the hostile shores - particularly the Alhobros Islands (the name means 'look out'). If you're ever in Fremantle I urge you to go - it was fantastic, and I learned all kinds of things I'll be looking out for when I go up the coast on Saturday. But tomorrow - I'm off to look for giant rats...

The most isolated city

The Perth skyline at night

So the start of the 'month of travels' began this morning with a whopping five-hour internal flight across to the other side of Australia. Now if you're American or Russian, flying that long and still being in the same country isn't new - but to me it certainly is. I was trying to think of how many countries I could get to within 5hrs of Edinburgh, but gave up when I was well into double figures. They don't call Perth the 'most isolated capital city on Earth' for nothing. It's closer to Singapore than Sydney. I got a ramshackle bus into the city and found where I was staying fairly easily - Perth is very small. Although maybe I've been in the spectacularly sprawling mass of Sydney for too long to appreciate the smaller cities.

My flight over was reasonable, considering the cold I've picked up - the last one I got was the last time I went travelling - and the hangover I had saddled myself with after the final Japanese lesson. It wasn't much of lesson, more a end-of-term meal and piss-up. We went to a Japanese lesson and had a great meal - which Nobuko-san instructed us to order in Japanese. She also ordered bottles and bottles of steaming sake, which we kept polishing off with increasingly loud cries of 'kampai!!'. I tell you, warm sake does wonders for a blocked nose. So that's it for my return to student-hood, I'll be able to try it for real in a couple of weeks.

The night ended on an amusing note, when the bloke I sat next to for the lessons confused me with another bloke in our class, and gave me a couple of anime DVD's. Hey, I do watch it - but I'm not the fan he thought I was. I managed to duck most of his questions, and took the disc home. I didn't feel bad, as the guy it was intended for didn't show up, and it wasn't bought specially - just downloaded from a laptop onto a blank disc. At that point we were both pretty drunk, and he seemed pleased that I'd taken it. So I've got some anime to watch when I get back - my Japanese education continues...

Tour Guide

M&D take in the harbour view from a ferry



If you've been wondering why the flurry of activity has died recently on DUaB, it's because I've been employed as a tour guide for the past week. My parents arrived on the 3rd of September and I played the part of tour leader. Initially this involved me getting up at 4am to meet them off the plane from Singapore, and watch as the evils of jetlag took hold and they slipped into the traveller's fug (before lunch, no less). But after a couple of half-days at the beginning of their stay, they attuned to the Antipodean timeframe and were keen to get out and about. We were undone by the weather to begin with - rain and cold winds for the first couple of days. My carefully-planned itinerary quickly went down the tubes and I spent much of the rest of the week winging it.

They had eight days in Sydney, all told, so managed to see practically everything the city has to offer. We did all the usual central attractions - Opera House, Harbour Bridge, Botanic Gardens, Taronga Zoo etc. I tried to get them out on the harbour ferries as much as possible, and I think they appreciated the city more for that (see photo above). We also took in day trips to the Blue Mountains and the Hunter Valley, both in spectacular Spring weather. I'd not been to the Hunter before, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

So they are now off up on a Barrier Reef cruise, and my tour guide duties are on hold for a while - at least until we get to Tokyo and I can show them round a city I've never visited. Tomorrow I fly off to Perth and the gaping expanse of Western Australia. I've got just over a week there - doing the backpacker thing again - before I come back to Sydney for my final 3days in Australia. How time flies, eh? Look out for more blog posting over the end of this week as I get on the road again.

The end of work

You'll be seeing more photos like this from now on...

Count the days between today and the 7th of November. That's how long I've got until I'll set foot in an office again. Yes, today was my last day at work. The 'working traveller' part of my visa is over - I'm just a plain old 'traveller' again, or backpacker, if you will. Call me what you like (and I've heard most of them), I'm a free man again for a while (until my scheduled return to the NHS in Edinburgh).

Not that I minded working - far from it. I was fortunate enough to land myself with a great temp agency, and managed to get myself put into two jobs which I enjoyed. Well, maybe enjoyed is too strong a word, but if they were menial they were at least varied, so I was never doing one thing too long. And no data entry, either. I'm certainly not contemplating switching careers to the enigmatic worlds of Superannuation or Human Resources, but they did they job for me (and me them).

On my last day today, the two women I work with took me out to lunch, and then presented me with a bottle of wine (from the Hunter Valley, naturally) and a cartoon of drunken kangaroos (not half as bad at it sounds). I handed over my pass and the key to my office, and that was that - back to civvy street.

So tomorrow I'm off to an accountant - first time for everything - clutching mounds of paperwork and a hopeful expression. I've been told by my agency that this Lithuanian bloke they know is good for getting tax back for us working travellers (again, he's not as bad as he sounds, apparently). They take out a $110 fee and I get the rest back within 10 working days. If that happens, blimey, I'll be well chuffed.

After that, my parents arrive this weekend, so I'll be doing my tourguide impression for a week or so. Then hopefully I'll be jetting off to WA for at least a week, and then it's briefly back to Sydney before I go to Japan. Almost wrote an entire post without mentioning that... ;)

Please enjoy the image which overflows

There are times when time it cannot modify

Who doesn't love shonky translations of Japanese websites? Google usually takes a pot shot at translating, and the results are always more entertaining than the websites themselves. Take these - from the homepage of the Honda Welcome Plaza in Aoyama, Tokyo. I particularly love the notes on ASIMO (a recently developed high-tech robot). Executions three times a day? Bring the popcorn!


Concerning the exhibition please inquire to HONDA smile of the information counter concerning question and the catalog claim of the four wheel car & bicycle general-purpose product.


The ASIMO it participates as a HONDA welcome plaza Aoyama's role of the guide. Introduction of the program which is televised with multiple vision and the guide et cetera of various events which are done at the plaza, everyday are done. Furthermore in forum and event, chairmanship part of opening! In the ASIMO which participates at the plaza, by all means, please come to meeting.

In the midst of ASIMO demonstration execution!
1 day 3 time schedule
10:30 - 10:35
11:50 - 11:55
15:00 - 15:10
* There are times when it modifies with the circumstances of the event and the like.


Both four wheel car & the bicycle, the new model of topic and model of popularity, in life the general-purpose product and the welfare car et cetera which participate are displayed. Actually you sitting down in the seat, please try atmosphere and handling feeling et cetera, freely. There is also a colourway of the body. Please request the unclear point and question, with ease.


Even from now on with HONDA welcome plaza Aoyama, regardless of the two wheels ･ four wheel the event which you can enjoy to everyone it is in the midst of planning. Concerning future schedule, because it keeps publishing to event news on occasion, don't you think? propriety everyone please check!

As easy as 123

Supotsu-ka!

Last night's Japanese class produced a language rule that completely amazed me - different counting systems are used depending on the shape of the object you're counting. In English we would say 'three bananas', or 'three postcards', but in Japanese the words used to correspond to the number three above would be different. There's the -mai system, which relates to things that are flat (plates, tshirts, slices of pizza etc), and the -hon system for things that are cylindrical in shape (bottles, trees, fingers etc). If you happen to be counting something that's of an indeterminate shape - like potatoes, televisions, lions - you use the more regular hitotsu, futatsu, mittsu (i.e. 123) system. The -mai and -hon systems above are combined with the other 123-system - ichi, ni, san etc. However the hitotsu, futatsu, mittsu system only goes up to ten - after which you swap to the ichi, ni, san system. Confused? As you can imagine this led to a barrage of bewildered questions that verged on the philosophical - How thick does a book have to be before it ceases to be flat? How would you count trees that have fallen over? What if the pizza's deep-pan?

The second half of the lesson was spent looking at Japanese words that have been developed from English. They look almost unrecognisable when written phonetically, but when you see the word 'sanoitchi' next to a picture of a sandwich, you get an idea of the prononciation. Japanese is of course an ancient language, so modern inventions are less likely to have 'original' names - like 'kamera', 'terebi', 'sutereo' - and my personal favourite 'tepu-rekoda'. Try saying them aloud and the meaning becomes clear - if you want to do some baking, you might put on an 'epuron' beforehand. In a department store you'd go down an 'esukareta' between floors - and maybe come back up in an 'erebeta'. And if that special someone bought you a 'purezento' - you might tell them those three little words - "Ai rabu yu".

How to boil rice

Geraldine finishing the obento


My near-total immersion in all things Japanese continues apace - whether its reading about the country, studying the history, learning the language, or defeating her armies on Battlefield 1942 at my local LAN gaming cafe. This weekend I added another string to my Japanese bow by learning how to cook proper Japanese food at a college course. I had noticed the one-off course when I was signing up for the language school, and suggested it to my flatmate Geraldine who is also a fan of raw things on rice.

The course was held in a school in Leichhardt, an area with a large Italian population a short bus ride west of the city centre. There were about 15 people in the class, run by two Japanese ladies. I've never even considered going to a cooking class before, but I've got to say it was pretty good. There was a mix of people there from the older serial mature student types down to working travellers like us. After a quick introduction to Japanese food, we had a traditional elevenses of green tea, rice crackers wrapped in seaweed and a 'healthy snack' - small bags of flaked almonds mixed with tiny dried fish. I do mean tiny, the longest of these dehydrated guys was about the width of my thumbnail. They reminded me of the neon tetras I used to keep as a young lad. Still, they tasted pretty fishy - and went well with the almonds.

We learned to cook chicken teryaki, salmon, bean salad with sesame dressing, egg roll, and rice balls. The method of doing the rice was interesting, as it took ages, but produced amazing sticky rice - the proper stuff. You have to knead the rice under cold water until no more starchy stuff comes out, apparently - then leave it for half an hour before you start cooking it. I just boil it for 20mins and drain the scum off - but no longer! We watched while Sumi-san did a demonstration, and then divided into groups of four and did our own versions. We were paired with a couple of students (the young variety) who enjoyed themselves despite having almost no cooking skills - but the food we made was amazing. At the end each foursome had prepared their very own Japanese obento lunchbox and we all sat down to eat. It really was good stuff, and thanks to the course, I now know how easy most of it is to rustle up.

On the trail of Billy Blue

Luna Park - Sydney's controversial fairground

Yesterday I took a short hop over the water to North Sydney, and walked back down to the harbour. One of the closest spots you can reach to the other side is at Blues Point Reserve, a small spit dominated by a large tower block. Universally derided since it was built, Blues Point Tower is consistantly voted Sydney's ugliest building, although to me it's no worse than any other concrete tower block. Of course very few concrete tower blocks are built within a few feet of Sydney harbour, and with views back to the bridge/Opera House/etc. If it wasn't there, the site would only be full of swanky condos I imagine.

One of the first people to live on that spot was a colourful character named Billy Blue. A Jamaican, he was transported for stealing a bag of sugar, and after his sentence ended he acquired a rowing boat and became a ferryman. The first to help people across the harbour, Blue was something of an eccentric. By 1807 he was a local legend, seen shouting at people from his boat (he ended up with a small fleet of rowing boats). Awarded the title 'Water Baliff' by the Governer of the colony, Blue preferred to be called the 'Old Commodore' and dressed in full naval uniform. He got so eccentric that eventually he would refuse to do the rowing, and his passengers would have to do it themselves. He demanded people salute him as an officer, and would entertain people with tales of naval adventures. When he became too infirm to take to the boats, he was granted the patch of land where his ferry started, and when he died aged almost 100, it was named after him.

A short jaunt around from Blues Point is the Luna Park fairground - the monstrous gates of which are something of a local landmark. They are illuminated at night, and can be seen from Circular Quay, like some kind of grinning troll sitting under the far end of the bridge. The fairground opened in the sixties, but was closed after a catastrophic fire on the Ghost Train killed about half a dozen children. Eventually it re-opened, but has struggled since to pull in the punters. It always seems reasonably busy, but I guess the lure of fairgrounds has faded for kids these days. The locals over at Milson's Point hate it - they get the screams and banging music from 10am to 11pm every day - it obviously intrudes on their pristine views. Maybe they should move to the Blues Point Tower, which is always said to have the best views in the city - as it's the only view where the Tower isn't in it...

13 into 10 doesn't go

Kyo wa ii tenki desu ne

Last night was lesson three in my Japanese course - and the difficulty levels have soared compared to the first two weeks. I'd only just learnt how to count from 1-10 - this week we covered asking the time, telling the time, counting to 100, days of the week and months of the year. Some are relatively easy, like the last category there - January is 'month-one', February 'month-two', March 'month-three', and so on. Telling the time is much harder - for 11:30 we would say 'eleven-thirty' - this translates as 'juichi-ji han desu'. 11:40 is 'juichi-ji yonju-ppun'. It's pretty tough, especially when spoken quickly.

Counting to 100 is reasonable, once you've mastered the premise that Japanese numbers are similar to the French system - 20 is 'two-ten', 30 'three-ten' etc. It just takes a long time to learn. As Nobuko-san said when our faltering voices tried to say 67 'rokuju-shichi' 'Numbers are killing you'. It doesn't help that three of the basic numbers - 4, 7, and 9 - have two alternative sayings. 4 as a number is commonly 'shi', but 4 written as part of a phone number is 'yon'. If you get mixed up, both are understood, but essentially you have to learn 13 numbers to be able to recite the top ten. 'Japanese is a moody language' admitted Nobuko-san, to which we all admitted 'Hai. So desu'...

Birthday feast(s)

How many candles?


Last Wednesday was my birthday, and although the thought occurred to me to take the day off, I decided to work as normal - no such thing as free time off for us temps. It wasn't that bad really, the people at work got me a cake and then the two women I work for in the HR department took me to lunch at a nearby Marriott hotel. It was a gloriously sunny day, so we sat outside on a patio with a few conference delegates and the droning traffic to keep us company.

When I got home the food-related celebrations continued as my flatmate Geraldine cooked an outstanding curry for me, which we ate in true birthday style - in front of the telly. Afterwards she disappeared and came back with the cake from my work (they made me take it home) covered in candles. I'd not had to blow out candles since I was a kid, so gave it one almighty puff - and succeeded in removing the top layer of shaved coconut all over the carpet. Still, I got most of the candles out as well.

My other flatmate was away then, so the three of us went for dinner last night to a French restaurant in Surry Hills. Whenever you read a description of Surry Hills, the word 'bohemian' is usually in there somewhere. Essentially the area is a bit grubby, but down to earth and with a lot of hidden restaurants, bars and galleries. I suppose it all depends on your definition of bohemian - or if you even care. Still, the restaurant we went to was very good - proper French food, very tasty, very little of it, piled in artful towers in the centre of the plate. It was expensive ($50), but good - although I could have eaten everything again - as Gerard said "There's a bowl of Weaties at home with my name on it."

On the way home we stopped in a pub for a couple of drinks, and arrived just before England beat Australia by 2 runs in an incredible finish to the 2nd Ashes Test. The result caused a fair bit of shouting, and predictably a fight broke out - Surry Hills is popular with Brits for the cheap rental prices. The lone doorman did his best to get in the middle, and did a good job of chucking out one side (the Australian) and barring the other (about five English lads - who were getting quite a kicking) from leaving. It spilled out onto the street eventually, but everything had cleared away by the time we left. Still, it gave me something to write about, eh?

Away from Home

Palm Beach (left) and Station Beach from Barranjoey Head

I went on another exploration on Sunday, this time to the far North of the Sydney boundary. Imagine, if you will, getting on a bus in the centre of your city and being driven for 1hr 45minutes. Not a coach, or long-distance vehicle, but a regular city bus. The L90 goes such a distance, from Central Station to Palm Beach. My 40-minute journey to work passes 11 fare stages (i.e. 11 places where the fare increases slightly). The trip to Palm Beach passes 29 - although even then it costs only $5.20 to get there (just over GBP2). It's a long way to Palm Beach.

But is it worth it? Well, sort of. It's a nice beach, the waves were the most impressive I've seen for a while - certainly the loudest. Palm Beach itself lies along one side of Barranjoey Head, a hammer-shaped spur that juts out into the mouth of the Hawkesbury River where it meets the Tasman Sea. I walked up a trail that wound up a forested hill to a lighthouse, with impressive views around. Back down by the beach seaplanes took off regularly, shattering the silence as they battered across the water to gain elevation.

I'm told that nearby Whale Beach is even nicer, but didn't have time to get down to it. I'm also told that they film the outdoors portions of the soap Home and Away around these beaches, although I've never seen it, of course. Ahem. It was certainly a good place for a Sunday afternoon stroll, but in my opinion there are nicer beaches nearer to the city (within 20 fare stages at least).

A-League of their own

Your author (bottom right, in blue and white Rovers kit)


The other week I went along to the first game in the pre-season campaign of Sydney's newest sporting franchise - Sydney FC. As a team, they've been around for a while, but the brand new domestic Australian football league - the A-League - starts this month. One of the Rovers fans in Sydney is a season ticket holder at Sydney FC (and at GBP60 they are considerably cheaper than season tickets of football teams in the UK), so I met up with him and the other hard-core Sydney FC fans.

The game was held at the Aussie Stadium, in front of about 9,000 people - which wasn't bad for a pre-season game against unknown opponents (the New Zealand Knights, anyone?). It was interesting watching a new football team start off - something that you never really get to see as most English teams were founded around 100 years ago. The small group of - let's face it - football nerds that I was with had chosen an area behind one of the goals to stand (yes, standing at football). It had been recently christened 'The Cove' for reasons I'm not too sure about, and was draped with banners for the team, until the fans were told by stadium security to take them down.

The game was enthusiastically dreadful, but Sydney wound out winning 3-1 and have been installed as favourites to win the new A-League. Predicatably they are seen as flash and overconfident (something Sydney is accused of a lot) - and this comes as no surprise when their star player is none other than ex-Rovers makeweight Dwight Yorke - the ultimate footballing playboy and father of a child with the model Jordan. I later read that Yorke was seen drinking in an Oxford Street bar a couple of hours after the match, so some things never change.

Nice and easy, Japanesy

Te o furenaide kudasai!

Last night was the first of the Level 1 Japanese language classes that I signed up for. I decided to learn some basic Japanese to help when I go there in two months, to give me and my 'chichi' a better chance of getting around. I tried to get on a course entitled 'Japanese for Travel' - which would have been ideal - but it was cancelled due to lack of numbers and I was shunted onto the Japanese Level 1 course instead. Still, this course is broader, and looks at some kanji and writing, so it's just as useful.

The course is run at the University of Wollongong (that being a small city to the South of Sydney), but based at their Sydney campus, right next to Central Station. There are about 15 of us in the group, the usual mix of younger travellers and serial mature students who sit at the front and ask questions. Our teacher is an affable motherly type called Nobuko-san, who has a fun way of getting us to repeat sayings - raising her hands and shouting 'Hai!!' (yes) like we're unruly schoolkids. Which I suppose in a way, we were. I was the only one wearing a tie, for a start.

We learned a few phrases of introduction, listened to a bafflingly fast tape (Nobuko-san gamely tried to work the CD player - what is it with teachers and electrical equipment?), and had a rapid-fire Q&A about Japan. During this I learned that the population of Tokyo is 30million (during the day - it goes down at night), Japan would fit 20 times into Australia (NSW is twice the size of Japan), and one of the basics of Shintoism is that every mountain has a God, every river has a God, etc. A Korean student in the front row found this perplexing. 'And that's the main religion in Japan?' he asked, incredulous.

By far the hardest thing for me was sentence structure - not because of the different way Japanese sentences are constructed, but because I realised I haven't a clue how English sentences are constructed. It took me five minutes just to remember what a verb was, and by the time she explained the Japanese equivalent of past form/present form I was hopelessy lost. Still, I'm not trying to become fluent, or to learn how to construct precise sentences. I just need to be able to communicate and ask for things, so we can get by. Next week, we're doing days of the week and telling the time. And we didn't get any homework!

The story so far...

The Harbour Bridge from Circular Quay railway station

Reading over these last few posts it struck me that this is the perfect time to fill you in on my plans, rather than more musings about delivery vans or bus stations. I've now been out here for just over nine months, which to be honest seems like ages - it's not gone by as quickly as I thought it might. I've got basically three months left until I have to return to the UK. So how am I going to spend it?

Firstly, I've got another month left working from my allotted three months - which I'll probably spend here in my current job (unless something unexpected and dramatic happens). So essentially I've got until the end of August to get money together for anything I plan to do before I fly North. Towards the middle of September I'm planning another short trip away - probably to the Outback. I was going to Melbourne for a week or so, but although it's supposed to be nice (and as previously mentioned I do like my cities), the Outback is something entirely unique, so I should make the effort to see it before it's too late.

I'd like to go somewhere remote, so was thinking about flying over to Perth and then going up the coast of Western Australia. That way I can have a base and still see some Outbacky stuff. Plus I've always wanted to visit Shark Bay - the only place in the world where you can see Stromatolites - footstool shaped colonies of coral-type animals so old they were claiming pensions and reminiscing about the good old days long before ancient reptiles even started thinking about flopping out of the seas onto the land.

After that I'll be off to Tokyo on the 25th of September, for two weeks of high-tech excitement and unidentifiable food. Thanks to my ticketing cock-up I'll be coming back two days earlier, but at least I'll be there for a couple of weeks. There then follows a crazy week starting the 10th October when I leave Tokyo, and arrive in the early hours of the 11th in Sydney. That will be my last day in Australia, as my next flight leaves early on the 12th for Seoul, South Korea. There I've got a free overnight stay in a hotel (thank you Korean Airlines), before flying onwards on the 13th, arriving in London on the 14th. So that's four cities and three continents in four days, including Asia twice. That's going to be some week...

A question of buses

Save Preston Bus Station!

If you come from Preston you inevitably know a thing or two about buses. Home to the longest bus station in Europe (I've waited so long to get that into this blog), I've been travelling about on their blue and white double deckers since it cost 30p to get into town. Apparently it's over one pound now - but you almost always give your (exact) money to a less-than-cheerful driver. Edinburgh too - the maroon buses there are the pride of the city as they drive from one side to the other and try to clog Princes Street as much as possible. Again, in my experience (something I should stress here) the drivers can be pretty grumpy. They do get shot from time to time, so maybe that's it. Or it could be the lack of length of their bus station, who knows.

But come to Sydney - and what a difference! Bus drivers that say hello when you get on, that say goodbye when you get off - I even had one ask me how my day had gone once. On more than one occasion the driver of a different bus has stopped and told me the one I'm waiting for is a few minutes behind him. Just the other week two came at once (they are buses, after all) and due to a mix-up one left a few people behind who wanted to get on. So the driver of my bus told them to get on ours, refused to take their money, then drove up behind the other bus at some traffic lights and ran across to tell him he'd missed some passengers. The other driver apologised and waited for the people to walk over to his bus. And you know what? Sydney doesn't even have a bus station! As my American readers would say - go figure.

Utes alive!

Is it a car? Or is it a van?

The humble white van is something you hardly see on Australian roads - instead workmen drive around in things that look like they were constructed on Scrapheap Challenge. As black cabs are to the UK, and yellow school buses are to the US - Utes are to Australia. You can't flag them down and get a ride though, so come to think of it that analogy was rubbish. You see a lot of them on the roads, at any rate. The basic ones are just a cab bolted to a chassis - called a 'Cab-Chassis' they are popular with workmen and builders (I'm told you can sometime see them in - ahem - Neighbours).

At the other end of the scale are the sporty turbo Utes - massive V8-powered beasts that are only used for testing the 100k speed limit. I don't think there's an equivalent of 'white van man' over here, but all the anti-speeding ads on TV feature men driving Utes coming to grief. Learner drivers (P-platers) are soon to be banned from driving powerful cars like Utes after a number of well-publicised accidents. The newest models have two rows of seats and four-wheel drive - so the move away from a tool-carrier to a family 4x4/SUV isn't far away. Speaking of which, in this country of the Outback and thousands of square kilometres of desert - which part of the country has the highest 4x4 ownership? Cremorne - a leafy suburb of North Sydney.

The Little Differences

Striped Orb-Web spider, roughly palm-sized

But Rich what's it really like living in Australia? is a question most of you must have muttered at some point after reading this blog - probably whilst waving your fist at the monitor. Well - apart from the (ahem) weather, there are plenty of small differences that the casual visitor will miss - but yours truly has noted. In the current period of working and no travelling, what better time to reveal some of these unique gems? *cough* filler posts *cough*

1. Spiders
How many times have I talked about spiders? Too many, for all you arachnaphobes, no doubt. Well that proves my point. Back home spiders are a nuisance at worst - they spin webs and go about their spidery business, but that's about it. Most of them are small, dull and brown - and although they fulfill a useful purpose, and without them we'd be knee-deep in flies blah blah - they just aren't that interesting.

So if you like your eight-legged insect overlords on the exciting side (and who doesn't?) then you have to come over here. Whether it's multi-coloured garden spiders, fat glistening orb web spiders, or massive slavering Huntsmen - arachnids here are worth writing about. A large spider in the UK would be...what, the size of your little finger? Large spiders in Australia are the size of your hand - believe me, I know. Check the archives for the post about my evening visitor. Yikes.

The world gave Australia rabbits and cats - Australia gave them back the white-tailed spider (well, New Zealand at least). If you even look at one of these guys funny, it'll go for you. When they bite you, it feels like a mosquito - but soon becomes agonising - essentially the part of you they bite dies, and has to be cut out (or off) to save you. The worst part is these things are small and love hiding indoors. Erm, I'll be checking under the bed tonight then...

Thinking about work

This long-necked turtle is far more stressed than I am

The other night I caught myself doing something no temp should ever do - I thought about work while I was at home. The sheer beauty of temping is that the job you do is so stress-free that as soon as you leave the office (or on some days even when you're still there) you flick an internal switch and log off. Of course when I'm in my office I'm concentrated and productive (ahem), but the instant I turn off the computer I can stop thinking about it. As such, I have the same levels of work stress as a pot plant - and with less watering. I think that's why office temping is the ideal job for working travellers like me, as it gives you decent money but practically no hassle.

The alternative a lot of people I've met go for is fruit picking - but a day in the sun picking apples or whatever is much harder than it sounds. For a start most of those places have quotas to fill, or you get paid by the box/bag/punnet etc. So you need to work hard to earn a decent amount. Plus they are usually located in out of the way places, and involve repetitive work. One girl I met in New Zealand described people turning up in the morning and jumping the fence in the afternoon to escape, such was the stress levels imposed by their bosses.

Maybe in recognition of this - and the fact that if it wasn't for travellers the seasonal picking industry would grind to a halt - the Australian Government recently announced a change in the visa regulations. The one-year working visa I'm on can be extended for another 12 months - but only if you complete three months of seasonal picking. The changes are due to come in at the start of November - two weeks after my visa expires - but even if they applied to me I'm not sure if I'd go for it. Admittedly it's 9 months of extended stay for 3 months of work, but 3 months is a lot of oranges/cabbages/whatever. Maybe if they broaden the regulations to include office temps I'd consider it - but somehow I doubt they'll be doing that any time soon...

The Olympic Spirit

An empty Sydney Olympic Stadium hosts a cricket match

If you saw the news the other day, you'll know that delegates from the IOC voted to award the 2012 Olympic games to London. Like a lot of British people, I think that's a great thing (although I'm sure there are plenty that don't). Staging an Olympic games puts strains on a city unlike any other one-off event, as was made clear in the run-up to the Athens games earlier last year. The issues of funding, taxes, congestion and security are all important while the games are happening - but what happens after all the athletes have left, and the medals, plaudits and drug bans handed out?

Sydney staged arguably the best Olympic games ever - it was certainly a vast improvement on the widely-criticised Atlanta event in 1996. The 2000 games were almost a coming of age for Sydney - people here still talk about them, and the positive effect they had on the image of the city. What legacy did it leave for Sydneysiders? Undoubtably it gave Australians and Australian sport a long-awaited moment in the spotlight, and their successes are remembered fondly by people who witnessed them. It also left the city with a huge complex of sporting venues and the problems of how to utilise them.

Sydney Olympic Park is the collection of stadia from the 2000 games, and even now it feels new when you walk around - it certainly has the shiniest station on the Cityrail network. It still hosts sporting events, to keep the venues paying off their contruction debts. I've been to basketball, football and cricket matches there, and have always been impressed by the facilities (if not the sporting performances). However, as far as I know the site is still losing money - it's difficult to encourage new events to come. Nobody wants to repeat the experience of the 1976 Montreal Olympics, which produced debts of up to C$1 billion that were lumped onto the taxpayer. Certainly Londoners won't want this to happen to them. But maybe the financial debts are eased by the spectacle of the event - this was certainly the case with the 2000 games here. The Olympics live on in the minds of Sydneysiders, like the blue line that marked the route of the marathon which is still visible on the city streets. Hopefully the 2012 games will be as memorable.

The lungs of the city

The art-deco ANZAC Memorial glistens in the sunshine

I read somewhere once that parks are considered to be the lungs of a city. If that's true, then central Sydney's lungs would undoubtedly be Hyde Park, the long rectangular green space that flanks the business district (which would be the brain, I guess). Named after the more famous park in London, the Sydney version quickly became the focal point of the fledgling colony back from it's formation in the late 18th Century. There's no real comparison to London's Hyde Park though - it's far smaller, there's no zoo (although it does have a corner). Back in the old days of settlement it was used as a mustering ground for soldiers from the adjacent barracks - but it has also been used as a cricket pitch, an arena for prize fights, and was the first racecourse in the city - which explains the roughly oval/rectangular shape (or ovtangular as I like to call it).

These days it's used mostly as a place to have lunch, an open-air theatre for drunks or a place to sleep for backpackers if they can't find their way to Kings Cross (for which you can decide your own body part analogy). Divided into two parts by Park Street, much of the greenery is dominated by two rows of huge Fig trees, which to my untrained eyes resemble giant florets of broccoli. In the Northern half is the splendidly OTT Archibald Fountain, completed in 1932 and featuring a typical scene from some legend or other, complete with stags, naked men, and turtles that continually vomit streams of water. If you follow the fig-dominated path to the other half (looking both ways as you cross Park Street, of course), you arrive at the other major feature, the art deco ANZAC Memorial, also built in the 1930's and dedicated to the 120,000 ANZACS who fought in the Great War.

There are other things of interest in Hyde Park too - like a manicured garden and veranda, and statues of Prince Albert and Captain Cook. But the real fun is to be had walking around looking at the people and animals that live or pass through the park - every Friday for instance, numerous Asian wedding parties gather to get photographed with the picturesque backdrop - one evening I counted five groups (and managed to get in a few pictures without even trying). On another walk home I saw bats, cockroaches and rats scampering about. There are large black and white storks that use their foot-long bills to reach into litter bins and remove sandwich wrappers, and possums that occasionally trot from tree to tree looking like grey cats with shrunken heads (trust me on this).

Last word on the weather

Some typical weather this week in Sydney

I didn't need my alarm clock this morning, as I was already awake, lying there listening to the rain lash the windows of my room. At the risk of this blog becoming purely about the weather, over the last few days Sydney has been pounded by a succession of rainstorms. This is all good of course, as I was droning on about before - the catchment area was close to the emergency low levels.

This kind of weather reminds me of a typical British Autumn day - squally showers, strong gusty winds and outturned umbrellas. The trees down our road were given a fearful battering by the wind, sending the already excitable parakeet-things into even more frenzied squawking. In fact, it was so wet that today I actually wore my coat - for the first time since I arrived in Australia in October (not counting the drenchings I got in New Zealand). Mind you, that's nearly eight months, so it's not too bad when you think about it.

Anyway, that's it for talk about the weather - unless there's a freak tornado or we get three feet of snow or something - I think I've covered the topic enough. I know us Brits have that reputation of talking a lot about the weather, but I think even taking account for that I should move on. Tomorrow - tea and cricket!

Winter finally begins

A local happy with the recent weather

I wonder when my award ceremony is going to be? Only last week the city was in dire need of water, in a desperate situation according to the media. I write a short piece about it on here - and what happens? We get three days of rain. However, before I start hiring myself out to other parched communities - the rain here is still far from enough - "Over 10 millimetres of rain has fallen into the Warragamba catchment, but I don't expect that to have any impact unless there is a lot more rain." said a Sydney city water Spokeswoman. Well it had an impact on me as I was walking home on Friday night, I can tell you. Winter seems to have arrived at last, as the days are getting longer after the shortest day on June 21st. It's still comparable to a Scottish summer, but Sydneysiders are out in their coats and scarves, shivering in their offices. We even had the heater on in our flat last night. Still, at least the days are now getting longer, and we move towards the Spring warmth - and an end to these miserable low temperatures of 10C...

Extracting the effluent

Tinder dry canefields in Northern Queensland

Sydney is very much the harbour city, surrounded on all sides by water. On any given weekend thousands of people are on the waterways, taking advantage of the city's greatest resource. At the risk of sounding dramatic, all this water hides a dark secret - which I didn't know about until I started living here. Sydney is almost dying of thirst. Everybody knows Australia is home to some of the largest desert regions in the world, but the sheer scale of the problem is frightening. The NSW State Government is understandably starting to worry about where the water for this growing city (100 new residents arrive each week) is going to come from.

The water supply for Sydney has never been lower - the reservoir levels are at 39.1% of what they should be (as of last week). 35% is considered the emergency level and would trigger the kind of contingency plans that experts keep suggesting, and keep being scoffed at. The current favourite appears to be desalination - the building of a $2bn plant near Bondi could serve the entire East of the city (including me) with drinkable seawater. By 2006 13bn litres of water could be found by drilling groundwater. These are the kinds of schemes that are suggested, but have not yet been implemented.

Despite all the panicking, life for us Sydneysiders isn't that difficult. There are bans on sprinklers and hoses - but nothing more than the equivalent bans during a hot UK summer. I'm not sure we even have a garden hose, to be honest. But it's always on the news, people are talking about the lack of water being the biggest problem Australia will face over the next hundred years - something I take for granted living in damp, predictable Scotland. But then Scotland isn't part of the driest vegetated continent on Earth. 75% of Australia is classified as permanently arid, which is amazing - 3/4 of this country is practically uninhabitable. Many rivers here flow away from the sea, ending in large, useless evaporating pans or stagnant billabongs visited only by jolly swagmen.

The solution for Sydney may be close though. According to the Sydney Morning Herald, the National Competition Council has ruled the city's sewers be opened to private companies who want to recycle effluent into useable water. Currently only 3.2% of Sydney's water is recycled - so with a bit of technology and some dirty manual work, the recycling option may be the one that makes Sydney sustainable again - time will tell.

Ku-ring-gai National Park

Cowan Creek - a tributary of the Hawkesbury River, in winter

One thing that I'm always conscious of is that I've not really gone to any bush yet. Proper Australian outback stuff just isn't within public transport range of Sydney. However, there are plenty of National Parks about an hour North of the city, so today I got the train to Berowra and walked through Ku-ring-Gai National Park. The name means 'belongs to the Aboriginies'- the Aboriginal people in SE Australia refer to themselves as 'kuri'. The National Park runs up to the edge of the Hawkesbury River, and the path I took wandered along the shoreline of the river.

The upper parts of the trail reminded me of a Scottish pine forest, but eventually things took on a more bush-like feel. On the way down I took a shortcut to miss out a long hairpin bend in the path, and met a group of elderly walkers coming up. One of them cheerfully admonished me for doing so - "These short cuts are for uptrackers, to make it easier for us" he said. So that was me told. After beating him to death, I carried on and eventually popped out of the bush at Waratah Bay, named after the official flower of NSW - not that I have any idea what it looks like. Here there was an estuary-style mudflat (always something that's been close to my heart) so I stopped for something to eat. After a minute or so, the mud started to come alive and dozens of small crabs appeared and began feeding. If you know me, you'll know I love that kind of thing, and I spent an enjoyable half-hour munching Doritos whilst watching the little guys at work.

The path followed the banks of the creek, in some places it actually was the bank. About three hours of pushing through ferns and bushes, and I found the small singpost that pointed out the track to Kuring Gai station. The day was another cracker - blue sky all the way, but in the forest it was dark and quiet. The odd passing speedboat and twittering birds made the only noise. I talked to a family of walkers who had seen a snake, but sadly I didn't spot one. The park is also home to Koalas and something called a Powerful Owl - but again I didn't see any (maybe just as well with the Owl). Mind you, it's not every day you get to have lunch with a colony of mudcrabs, is it?

At a loose end in Manly

I didn't see any bandicoots

This weekend Australians celebrate the Queen's birthday - and everyone is given a holiday on the Monday. Odd, considering as most younger Australians couldn't care less about the distant monarchy - and odder still because back home us Brits don't get a holiday for her birthday (loyal subjects indeed). As if the oddness couldn't get any higher, New Zealanders got their Queen's birthday holiday last week. Anyway, I toyed with the idea of going to work to make some sort of point about the old dear not giving days off to her immediate subjects, but I couldn't be bothered. Instead I had planned to go up North to Mount Kuring Gai and do a bit of bushwalking. You can imagine my consternation however when I arrived at Town Hall Station to find all trains going North cancelled because of track work, leaving me stuck in the city. The irony of a British bank holiday wasn't lost on me, I can tell you. At least it wasn't raining. So I decided right there on the spot to switch to my emergency Plan B - which in all contingencies is the same - go to Manly.

I love Manly - it's probably the only other part of the city I'd ever live in. I've been several times of course, so today I visited the only part I'd not yet explored - North Head. As you know if you read this blog often, the entrance to Sydney Harbour is guarded by two craggy lumps that curl into the Pacific like giant fists. Called North and South Head, they are both National Parks, and both give great views of the Ocean and back to the city (South Head was near where I was the other week in Vaucluse). So I had a walk around, looked back at the city for the umpteenth time - it was all very pleasant. I didn't see any bandicoots (I suppose they are nocturnal), but there were dozens of black and white birds flashing through the bushes - New Holland Honeyeaters according to the signs. It also said you could sometimes see migratory whales at this time of year - but once again my luck with whales was nil and I didn't see any. So I walked around in the winter sunshine before strolling back down to Manly wharf and the ferry to the city. Not a bad Plan B really - thanks Queeny!

Australian banks

I don't have a picture of a bank - but I do have one of a parakeet

I think I've already mentioned how badly you get treated by Australian banks. Well now I can give you an example. I opened my monthly statement this morning and was mildly surprised to see I'd been charged $78 for 'other transactions'. After further examination I realised I accrued these charges when in New Zealand - at $5 a pop every time I withdrew money from an ATM over there. Apparently the usual $1.50 'other ATM withdrawl fee' is bumped up to $5 when the other ATM is in another country. I had no idea of this of course, so managed to rack up almost $80 in fees in three weeks. That translates to GBP32, but it's more the principle than the actual money that annoys me.

Every bank statement comes with what they call a 'transaction summary', but what I call a 'charge sheet'. Every month I get 5 free ATM withdrawls, 2 free chances to use my debit card, and 2 free direct debits. Anything over that and I get charged 50c, 30c, and 30c respectively. Again, the fees aren't exactly epic in size, but when you consider I that I have a basic minimum of 6 direct debits every month (two rent deductions and four wages additions) essentially I get charged for getting paid. If you go to the counter in a bank for help, that's $2 - if you write someone a cheque, that's another $1. From the 1st of August the direct debit charge is increasing to 50c.

I know I'm ranting a bit here, but coming from the UK banks tend to leave you alone unless you go financially daft. Maybe in the rest of the world this is what banks are like. I've been in my branch enough times to have been ignored and even sneered at once by a Manager. But hey, I've got to keep my money somewhere - and if I store it inside my matress I'd probably lose my flat deposit (and then get charged by the bank)...

Watson's Bay to Rose Bay

If I had to choose one photo to sum up Sydney - this would be it

If you're on the South side of the harbour, and go as North-East as you can, eventually you'll come to Watson's Bay. This is one of the top weekend day trips for us Sydney folk, and when I went on Sunday the ferry was packed. I've been a few times before - but this time I wanted to walk South along a coastal trail winding along the harbourfront. After passing the daytrippers eating their fish and chips I got to Parsley Bay, a narrow cove surrounded by fancy houses. The suburb round here is Vaucluse - home to the older, richer Sydneysider - and the homes reflect that. Bristling with high fences, gates, guard dog signs and cameras pointing accusingly at the street. Of course I had a look through as many gates as possible and waved at all the cameras as I went past, weaving my way through the Mercedes parked halfway up the pavement.

As with the Manly-Spit Bridge walk on the Northern side, this walk wound its way from a succession of small coves and beaches - from Vaucluse Bay onwards. At Shark Bay the netting to keep those creatures away had been removed for 'cleaning', leaving an impotent-looking rope and a few brave swimmers. There hasn't been a fatal shark attack in the harbour for almost 40 years, but it happened just up the coast from Shark Bay. Onwards the path went, eventually coming out at Rose Bay - another affluent suburb - where I got the bus back to the city. It was a great day - I think I needed that to remind me how great Sydney is after my epic trip to New Zealand. It's reaffirmed my belief that Sydney is more than where I work, it's where I live too...

Working...part two

Your author hard at work in his office this morning

So this is me in my new office, hiring and firing. I've never had an office before, and it's quite exciting. I'm here replacing some unfortunate HR Manager who was recently diagnosed with cancer. There are three of us in the department, but only two rooms - so I've been put in the office of the sick bloke, and have it all to myself. The job consists of helping out the other HR Manager and the HR Assistant - so I'm essentially an Assistant HR Assistant. General phone stuff, sending out letters, that kind of thing. But all in the comfort of my own office (and a big one at that).

I was taken for a tour this morning - I'm working for a large pathology company, so there are all kinds of laboratories and white-coated boffins wandering around. Plastic bags of various fluids (and yes, solids too) arrive and are examined - thankfully not too close to where we are. It was impressive stuff though, lots of biochemical equipment and ranks of people staring down microscopes. Up in the HR department though it's just computers and phones. Still, it's a good place to work, the two others in HR are really nice. Bus journey's a long one though - no chance of me walking here, unfortunately...