Goodbye Forster. I love you.

I could live here and be very happy.

Everything I saw about Forster just made me like it more.  It’s not too big (25,000) though it swells with tourists during the winter.  But I could get over it. 

They have beautiful beaches with serene little coves and gently scalloped bays.  It’s unbelievably beguiling.

There are fenced areas of the ocean for swimmers (yes!) and they have a pool if you prefer chlorine to salt.  I’m guessing they purify with chlorine but I didn’t go there so don’t actually know for sure.  They have boardwalks through the municipal gardens with lots of benches, so you can bring a book and settle down in the cool shade for a read.  They have the most active  Rotary Club per capital in Australia.  And they have really nice people.

Thanks David and Sheryl for showing us around your lovely town.

Getting around in Forster

“When you get on the bus, could you tell the driver that I’m driving with David in the car, so I won’t be on the bus after all,” said Sheryl my hostess.

“No problem,” I replied, and when I boarded the bus I told the driver that David and Sheryl would be coming along to the wine tasting in their own car.

“But I don’t know how to get to Steve’s,” he replied, “that’s why David was supposed to come on the bus!”

Hans had just boarded, so I asked him to run back into the mall and find David and Sheryl.

“He doesn’t know how to get to Steve’s,” I said, “so ask him to come with us.”

Off he went and came back fairly quickly without either Sheryl or David.

“I ran into Sheryl and asked her if she knew how to get to Steve’s.”

“Sure,” she replied, “so I came back.”

“It’s not David who doesn’t know how to get there, it’s the bus driver!  He doesn’t know where Steve lives and that’s why David has to come with us, to direct the driver.”

“Oh.  That’s not what you said.”

Getting around in Forster

Crush me, squeeze me, make me wine

Mmm.  We tasted a sparkling wine, a Semillion, then Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz, finishing with a Muscat.  What was supposed to take only 1 hour took two, and then we had to hustle to get to the restaurant for dinner.

Wow!

The R C of Forster prepared this amazing feast for us tonight for $20, and this was just the appetizer!!  They had teriyaki lake trout to follow.  The tray Sue is holding is for one person!!

Have I already said life is grand?

“What shall we do today?” was the question going around the tables at the Beach Bum Café this morning.

There were many options available, and I’d already made one of my choices by arriving in my bathing suit, unable to resist the lure of the water. Sharks be damned.

While I was swimming, with Hans watching over me just in case, David and Sheryl picked up some picnic fixings and after a quick shower back at home, we took Noreen and headed for the Dragonfly Lily Winery. 

Their entire selection was tasted, lest we settle on a wine only to discover a better one could have been had.  With that important decision behind us, we took our two bottles and our friends and had a sumptuous picnic of ham, beef, buns, chutney, cheeses, tomatoes and greens, pineapple and cookies.

I can honestly say that a good time was had by all.

Blue tongued lizard

This blue tongued lizard lives in Sheryl’s back yard where he likes to sun himself.  She threw him a few small pieces of apple, which he ate greedily as we four stood around and watched his bright blue tongue flick in and out as he manoeuvered the apple into his mouth.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get a photo of his tongue but trust me, it’s bright blue.

Nasty Magpies

The cyclist in yellow caught our eye because of her unusual helmet.

Turns out the magpies here are quite aggressive and dive bomb her, waiting until she’s on one leg as she prepares to mount her bike before diving onto her head and pecking at her between the slats on the helmet. 

Little Nippers

These Little Nippers, as they are called, are training to be future lifeguards.  I may have that wrong, but they are learning how to run on the sand and be quick about it!!

You can’t see the fenced part of the ocean from here, called the bull pen, but it’s to the far right of the picture and that’s where I did my laps.  I’d forgotten how salty the ocean tastes though I did my best to keep as much as possible out of my mouth.

A place of unspeakable loveliness

This is our hosts’ ‘private’ beach, a short 20 minute walk from their house.  Pretty, isn’t it? 

We sauntered over there last night in the fiercest wind I can remember.   At the lookout, conversation was nearly impossible as the salt-scented wind swallowed our words.  But then, this picture is worth a thousand words.

Blue Hills

These aren't the famous blue mountains, but the colour is nevertheless quite intense.  The mountains are full of hazy forests of gum (eucalyptus) trees whose quiet respirations give the hills their bluish tinge.

Galahs

These birds are quite pretty,but not the prettiest ones we've seen in Australia.  However, they have caught the fancy of bird lovers overseas and every year people try to smuggle the birds out of the country.  Or their eggs.  It's a jail sentence if you're caught, plus a hefty fine.  But the lure of selling them for $10,000 apiece seems to make the risk worthwhile.

Sorrowful goodbyes

This Rotary Friendship Exchange has been a wonderful experience in almost every way.  The only part that hurts is having to say goodbye every few days to the wonderful hosts we've had and with whom we've all bonded in the short time we've been together.  And it's not just the hosts, but we've met so many wonderful people, many of whom we know we'll never see again.  That's becoming sad.

We've been treated so well.  Too well!  We're scared to death for the return trip as they've set the benchmark very high.

When we leave one town for the next, Steve plays "I am Australian" in the bus, and we're getting to know the chorus and singing along.  It's become our unofficial anthem in Australia.

First Ocean Swim in Australia

"We'll go for an early morning swim tomorrow," said David, our host.

I'm excited, but also a little scared.  They do net the beaches against sharks here, and were' going swimming near their house where there are no nets.

"Will you save me from sharks?" I asked.

"I've done it before," he said, and proceeded to tell us this story.

"When I was 18, I saw an elderly couple being swept out to sea by the current.  They were at least in their 50s.  When you're 18, 50 year-olds look old to you," he explained.  All four of us are well past  50 now.

"So I paddled out on my surfboard and rescued the woman.  The man was able to get to some rocks and eventually made his own way back to shore.  When he got there, he fished out his wallet and turned to one of my mates, handing him a 10 pound note."

"Here you are laddie, and she's worth every bit of those 10 pounds."

"I don't know," said the mate, looking over at the wife who was, after all, 50 and not that attractive.  "I think you deserve some change," and returned 5 pounds to the man.

Kookaburras for lunch

 "They kill snakes by slamming them against a tree or rocks," said Catherine, pointing out the kookaburra sitting in a tree nearby.  The Rotary Club of Gloucester had prepared a steak sandwich picnic for us on the grounds of a local park as we drove through on our way to Forster on the coast.

"We put our bacon rinds in the compost," she continued, "and the kookaburras come and pluck them out, think they're worms.  Then they smash the bacon rinds against the fence to kill them."

Another fabulous day

We reunited at Di’s Garden where tables and chairs had been set out in the afternoon shade.  All the hosts had brought an assortment of salads and drinks and the Rotary Club of Walcha treated us to a barbecue of steak, sausage, onion and tomato.

And so, once again radiant with cholesterol, carbohydrates and contentment, the afternoon passed in a pleasant blur.

But the day didn't end there, though it could have.

We all got together in the evening at the Bowling Club (that's lawn bowling, not pins) for a delicious smorgasborg.  Despite our intentions not to eat after stuffing ourselves at Norm and Di's, we did eat because the Rotary Club of Walcha was treating us and it would have been rude to refuse.  And Canadians are nothing if not polite. 

There was a lively game of bingo and I won a prize!  The prize was a number of free tickets to a meat draw (selection of leg of lamb, steaks, sausages, etc.) and one of my tickets won so I asked James to collect it since the gift was going to our hosts.  We were delighted to be able to repay their kindness.

We got us a Convoy!

A number of the Walcha Rotarians were on hand with their 4 x 4s and loaded us up.  We were off to the gorge.  There were 9 fully loaded SUVs.  We were a convoy!  All of us were connected by CB radio, just like in the days of truck convoys, with Fearless Leader in front and Tailend Charlie bringing up the rear. 

Originally, we were to drive into the gorge in the 4x4s but recent heavy rains as well as a small deluge yesterday morning kaiboshed that plan.  Too dangerous.  Vehicles have been known to slide sideways off the steep road so instead, we were driven to a beautiful viewpoint called Budd’s Mare and along the way admired the countryside of rolling hills dotted with sheep.  The viewpoint was beautiful and though I know the local Rotarians were disappointed not to be able to take us into the gorge, we don’t know what we’re missing and so simply enjoyed what we could see.

It was a place of unspeakable loveliness.

Bugger the Garden. Where's the Wine?

An amusing welcome sign in a garden that definitely was not buggered but obviously lovingly tended.  Fortunately, we had persuaded Anne to let us skip breakfast because there before us was a lavish spread of morning “tea”:  spongecake filled with strawberries and whipped cream, assorted homebaked cookies, slices (known to Canadians as squares) and trays of scones decadent with jam and cream.  Oh my.  It was all so delicious.

That was the start of a fabulous day.

Pioneer Lodge

The town puddled under a dull, persistent rain but Barry supplied the ladies with umbrellas so we could walk around town and explore the shops while the men retired to the local pub.  We were trying to work off the fried banana bread.  I’m not sure that worked, but we enjoyed ourselves despite the rain.

The Rotary Club supports the Pioneer Lodge in Walcha, which we toured under the guidance of a local historian who was able to tell us about the many artefacts we were viewing.  A highlight for me was when he played a 1910 gramophone which plays cylinders. The sound was scratchy and tinny, but it was amazing to hear a recording from 100 years ago.

As we walked around and our guide showed us the outdoor toilet, he mentioned how things have changed.

“In the old days, you went to the toilet outside and ate inside.  Now, we go to the toilet inside but eat outside.”

Remembrance Day in Walcha

We stopped at Grazes Café in Walcha for morning coffee when we arrived.  They serve decaf so Hans and I had our first coffee in 2 ½ weeks and it was good.  Even better was the toasted banana bread we had which in Australia they butter, then toast it before serving it warm.  Yummy!!

The mayor, also a Rotarian, joined us and at 11:00 a.m.  we stood to observe a minute’s silence.  Lou had thoughtfully brought along enough poppies for all of us to wear over our hearts.  We weren’t the only ones to stand, as other customers also stood.  When the minute was up, a gentleman at another table recited The Ode to the Fallen, a short but poignant acknowledgement to fallen soldiers everywhere.

Walcha

Our introduction to Walcha came at the house of Barry and Mona who welcomed the team by touring us through his wine cellar.

“Champagne or still white?” he asked, a bottle in each hand.

“I like both.  Do I have to choose?”

Walcha is off the beaten track so you really have to work if you want to get here.  And if you’re here for 40 years, the locals will finally forgive you.

It’s a charming small town of only 1700 or so, but you can double that number if you add in the adjacent farms.  Despite its small size, Walcha has the most active Rotary Club per capita in all of Australia!!  Now that’s something to brag about.  And in addition to Rotary, Walcha has an equally active Lions Club.

Clearly, these are people worth getting to know.

Whip Bird

The picture is of a bush turkey seen on our walk in the rainforest.  But I would have loved to show you a photo of the whip bird.  It makes a sound exactly like the crack of a whip.  Exactly!  We could hear it all through our walk, but they are quite shy and never spotted one.  Even the locals walking with us had never seen one.

In a completely unrelated note, most of the coffee here is instant which suits us just fine since Hans can’t drink caffeinated coffee anyway, and I’m afraid to drink it when we’re travelling in the bus as I’d have to ask Steve to stop at every post.

The White House

“Let others tell of storms and showers.  I’ll only count your sunny hours.”

This quote is on the sundial pictured in front of the house.  You can also see another fine display of the iron lace that decorates the veranda. The Whites were early settlers to the area and as was the style back then, if you had some money to spend, the government gave you generous land grants plus you got free convict labour to work your land.  They ended up with 200,000 acres.  Generous indeed. 

The house is showing its age.  In the living room there is a huge stain on the wall above the fireplace.  Apparently one summer when the fireplace wasn’t in use of course, a nest of bees set up home inside.  Then come winter when they lit the fireplace, all the honey and beeswax melted and dripped through the wall.

The piano had a double candle holder attached to the left and right front of the piano, with candles.  I presume it was so you could read your piano music in the days before electricity.

There were 5 daughters and they all slept on the second storey veranda outside, year round.  There were blinds that could be pulled down so they would be sheltered from the wind and hail (!)

And in a final little note of interest, one of the Misses White married a Mr. Black and moved to Orange.

“Get it off me!  Get it off me!” yelled Aletta, dancing on one foot and shaking her other one in the air.  Rob, our ranger guide, went over and plucked off a long black leech.  It was pretty icky.  After that, I found myself glancing more often at the leaf debris through which we were walking than at the splendor of the canopy above.

Perched on the rugged eastern escarpment of the Great Dividing Range, Dorrigo National Park contains magnificent stands of lush rainforest and spectacular scenery. The hike we took descended a long way down, each step a reminder that I would have to climb back out but I was determined to do it.  After all the eating we’ve been doing…well…this was a small price to pay and it wasn’t going to pay for much of the eating either.

Along the way we saw a choking fig, pictured as the braided roots climbing up one of the trees. Eventually, it will choke the life from the tree.  The fig will remain standing, and the other tree will rot away, leaving a cavity inside the fig’s trunk.

At the bottom we came to a gorgeous waterfall dropping from the heights into a lovely pool, seen on one of the photos.  Ranger Rob told us that in their younger years, he and his wife used to come down here for a swim.  Long way to go for a little frolic.  Now there’s a new suspension bridge easing the trip across the little ravine and this was the turnaround point.  We could either go back the way we came, or make a loop that added an extra kilometer to the hike.  One couple had turned back earlier, and of course I was opting for the shorter route and Penny said she’d come with me.  “But what if I get leeched?” I asked.  “Don’t worry, I can get rid of a leech for you.”  So off we went, and Jenny joined us.  There was another group of 3 or 4 just behind us.

Since I couldn’t walk and talk, but Penny and Jenny could, they walked behind me so I could set a more leisurely pace and they could talk and I could listen.  I wanted to talk, but you know, it was one or the other.  When I stopped for breath I’d gasp out my comment on what they were discussing, then we’d resume our pace uphill. 

Then I felt something chilly  and wet on top of my foot. Glancing down, I saw a wriggly black leech.  Instinctively I tried to brush it away with my finger, whereupon it came off my foot but attached itself to my finger.

“Help me!  Help me!” I shouted urgently, shaking my hand in a frenzy trying to dislodge the leech.  Everyone backed away from me.  “Rub your finger on a tree,” Penny said.  I did and the leech came off.  Later she told me I was shaking my hand so violently she was afraid the leech would fly off and land on her.

Stuff

The Y-Front Cathedral  

It’s actually St. Peter’s cathedral, and the architect Aubrey Hunt created special corner bricks to make inside corners which have been dubbed Y-fronts…

Iron Lace 

The fancy ironwork dubbed iron lace was used as ballast in the ships when they brought settlers over from England.

The Team 

Here’s the team pictured in front of a stained glass window in the shopping center.

Thunderbolt Rock #1

Thunderbolt was a local Armidale cattle rustler who made a good living stealing goods and stock from the countryside.  He always got away because he only stole the best horses and no one could catch him.  The rocks pictured here where his lookout point, watching for unsuspecting coaches and riders he could rob.

Different Expressions

I love some of the expressions I hear.  For example, at the Dag Sheep Station, the toilets are called Dunnies, which is what they used to be called back in the day of the sheep shearers who hired themselves out as they travelled about.  Later, this evolved into the ‘summerhouse’.  “Some are for him, and some are for her.”

Or when we stopped to go shopping one day, and one of the Aussie hosts asked me, “Are you shopping with your friends or with your handbrake?”

Kangaroos

“There was a large black kangaroo just here this morning,” said our guide as he drove us slowly past a semi-wooded area in his nature preserve. 

“You should have ‘tied me kangaroo down, boy’,” I said.

The photo of the wallaroo is one taken at the Dag Sheep Station.  She's still a baby and was orphaned, so became a pet of the owners just like Baa the Sheep.  Ruby the wallaroo still likes to sleep in a bag in the house.

I am Australiam

“And we are one,

yet we are many

and from all the lands on earth we come. 

We share the dream and sing with one voice,

I am

You are

We are

Australian.”

This song is so beautiful it made me cry.

Bruce McChristie is a singer-songwriter, and his sweet Willie Nelson voice was joined by most of the Australians in our group who knew this song.  Their voices filled the room, and it was poignant and achingly beautiful.

Later that evening, Shirley gave me a CD with that song on it.  Thank you, Shirley.

Emergency Kit

As we left the house to take the bus with our hosts for the daytime tour, I saw Shirley pack a little bag with some water bottles and other stuff.

“Did you put in some emergency medical supplies for snake or spider bites?” I asked jokingly.

“Yes,” she replied quite seriously and pulled out a tube of ointment to show me.  “It’s not an anti venin, but it’ll take the sting out if you get bitten by something other than a snake."

Baa Baa White Sheep

Some of our group watching Ruby, the Wallaroo.

The Hills of Gold are a breathtaking backdrop to life in a small rural village.  Changing colour with the position of the sun, the hills seduce you with their beauty and drama.

We spent the better part of the day here, in the Lilliputian town of Nundle which is cradled between the western fall of the Great Dividing Range and the Peel River.

One of the highlights was the Dag Sheep Station.  I bet you don’t know what dag means.  Well, I’ll tell you.  It’s the creative name given to the clingons that stick to a sheep’s fleece at the butt end.

Baa, before and after.

It’s not a working sheep station anymore, though the place is rich in history.  Now its picturesque setting is mainly used for weddings and other events like ours, hosting a group of tourists, giving a sheep shearing demo and then putting on a sumptuous lunch before sending us on our way.

Bob and Baa, the ‘sacrificial lamb’, took their place front and center and as Bob sheared, he told us Baa’s story.  The poor lamb broke a leg when he was very little.  They were going to put him down, but decided to first try and save him and used a plastic pipe as a makeshift splint.  That worked, and Baa is now 7 months old and the family’s pet.

 In return for his life, he submits to being shorn for show.

On the way to lunch I spoke with one of the hosts who seemed quite knowledgeable about sheap shearing. 

“Do you shear sheep?”

“No, I’m a banker.”

“Oh, you just fleece people.”

Cockatoos

Cocatoos fly around wild and free.  They look beautiful to me, their brilliant white plumage in sharp contrast to the luscious green lawns surrounding them.

“They’re beautiful, but a pest,” said Fern.  “If a flock of them decides they like your roof and settle on it, they can peck the edges to pieces.”

We saw another cockatoo in Tamworth in a large cage outside the hotel where we were being hosted for dinner.  “Hello,” it said as we watched it.  “Hello,” it repeated.  Delighted, we replied but then we had to go inside.  “Goodbye,” we said.

It sent us off with a lewd wolf whistle.

Hal and Shirley

It’s our first evening at Hal and Shirley’s.  They live on the 7^th hole at the Longyard Golf Course and so with very little coaxing, Hal convinced Hans that they should go and play a few holes until it gets too dark.   They managed to squeeze in seven holes and came back quite happy, despite the fact that they were there so long they go locked into the golf course and had to jump the fence to get back out... Well, maybe not exactly like that.  But instead of being stressed, they had a good laugh about it.

Meanwhile, it was dinner time.  Shirley had already prepared a delicious salad with avocados, and was laying out the steaks.

“Will Hal barbecue them?” I asked.

Looking outside, she said, “No, it’s too windy.  Besides, Hal doesn’t barbecue.  He cremates.  He was a Funeral Director you know.”

Tamworth

Our hosts Hal and Shirley met us at the Tamworth station.  And the hosts for the rest of our team were there as well PLUS, Ken, the R.C. Tamworth club president and a reporter for the local newspaper!  He went  around and took photos of the Tamworth hosts and their Canadian guests so even if our picture doesn’t make it into the local paper, we’ll probably see our images in a club bulletin or somewhere.  With an outstanding reception like this, we’re really going to have to pull out all the stops and be on our toes when it comes time to reciprocate next year.

Tamworth has six Rotary clubs, a huge amount for a city of 70,000 and each couple was being hosted by a member from one of the six clubs so clearly, all clubs have joined together to organize their portion of the Rotary Friendship Exchange.

Hal and Shirley live right on the 7th hole at the golf course,  so since there’s still some daylight left, Hal took Hans out to play 3 or 4 holes while Shirley makes supper and I’m sitting in their office blogging.  I’m a bad guest.  

Hal and Shirley are charming.  But then, we noticed this before with our hosts in Sydney.  Aussies have a knack for making you feel as if they were just waiting for the day when someone like you would drop by.

In the early morning rain

In the early morning rain….

...we left for Sydney Central.  Glenn recommended we give ourselves an hour to get to the train station since we were leaving not only during rush hour but also in the rain, both factors that would contribute to delays somewhere along the way.

As it happened, though the traffic was thick, it flowed as quickly as the gutters that were swollen with rain and we took only 30 minutes to get to the train station.  Annette Mackay, the Assistant District Governor for District 9650, spotted us in our Rotary vests and came over to introduce herself.  She’s accompanying us on our train ride to Tamworth to get to know us better.  “Are you scoping us out to see with whom you want to stay next year when you and your husband come to Canada?”  Clearly that hadn’t crossed her mind, but now that we’ve put that thought into her head we’re all under pressure to be on our best behaviour so she’ll choose us.

We relaxed, and settled in our seats in a state of tranquil mindlessness.  Until I saw the sign in the train’s toilet that said, “Deposit used syringes here.”

With three minutes to spare, our team was intact and the train thrummed to life and we slid regally out of Sydney Central.   We were on our way.

This little cutie was in our train car.  Lou gave her a flag and she proudly walked up and down the aisles waving it at all the passengers.

 

Bad Seagull

We had some time to kill and indulged in a favourite pastime:  finding a congenial place to sit and relax.  We found a delightful outdoor patio.  There I sat, just savouring the pleasure of sitting down and finding myself in a far country with a glass of wine in my hand, watching the people.  It was perfect.

On the street below us were some fast food restaurants with a swarm of seagulls hanging around waiting for a handout.  Three young men were huddled together shielding one who was trying to eat some fries when one bird, legs outstretched, came in for a landing smack on the back of his neck.  Startled, he flung it off and started to walk away but it didn’t help.  He gathered a comet’s tail of seagulls following in his wake.

Last night in Sydney

We were scheduled to all gather for a team dinner the night before our departure for Tamworth and Gary scoped out a charming restaurant called Phillip’s Foote.  It has narrow frontage on George Street, but stretches quite extensively towards the back where it is open-air, but covered by an assortment of wooden roofs and tarps to protect you from the elements.  Good thing too because partway through our meal, the rains came.  There was nothing so dainty as raindrops in this.  It was just a cubic mass of falling water filling the air with a fearful, pounding din.  We remained quite dry, but the wind found the cracks and an unwelcome chill wrapped itself around our ankles.

The novelty to this restaurant is that you select your raw meat and then proceed to one of several barbecues and cook it yourself.  All the meat is the same price and includes a salad bar as well as potatoes and breads.  No one comes to serve you.  If you want a glass of wine, you wend your way down to the bar and get one.  Periodically a bus-boy comes by with a wicker basket on his arm and clears your table of debris but otherwise, you're left undisturbed.

At the end of our meal the ten of us squeezed around one table and so, radiant with cholesterol and contentment, we relaxed to enjoy each other’s company and to wonder what had happened to our two Lost Ladies.

No news

Just a quick note to anyone who's reading this.  We haven't dropped off the face of the earth.  Sometimes internet connections aren't available but more than that, we're kept so busy that we just drop into bed like rocks at the end of the day so there's just no time to write.  But, one of these days more will come.

Tiny Dancers

I'm completely charmed.

Today's feature attraction in downtown Sydney were dozens of toddler ballerinas.  Adorable little e year olds in their filly pink tututs were everywhere.  We saw most of them at the Sydeny Opera House where there was some kind of event and the little girls were encouraged to wear their tutus.  My, but they were cute! I asked permission from one Mom to take her daughters' picture, and then asked the little pink girl, "Are you a ballerina?"  She nodded shyly, but couldn't bring herself to speak.

Miscellaneous

The pigeons look well fed, but the men and women who eat their lunch outside in Australia Square are slender and stylish.  There are as many Brown Baggers as lunchers who buy takeout from the indoor food court.  It's a very vibrant square, and the whole downtown rocks and teems with pedestrians.  The many outdoor cafes and restaurants, not to mention the throngs of people, remind me a lot of downtown Montreal.

We did some people watching while sipping a glass of cool wine in the square. The soft air wrapped itself around us, enveloping us with a heady mix of multiple perfumes competing with each other.

It's easy to pick out the locals.  They're nearly all good looking and well dressed, like downtown in any large city, with the men in suits and ties and the women in fashionable dresses and stiletto heels. Clearly, Aussies have good genes.  In this culturally diverse city we've seen everyone from stunning Asian beauties - and there are many here - to beautiful olive-skinned men and women from the Mediteranean countries.  And, lots and lots of joggers!  Especially around Circular Quay by the Opera House.  I think many are downtown workers who jog around the Quay on their lunch hours.  Everyone looks very fit.

Glenn and Fern

It was an evening of lively Rotary conversation with our hosts Glenn and Fern. 

We debated where Rotary should throw its focus after the polio eradication program has come to a successful conclusion (probably education) and aided by the grape, generally solved all of Rotary's problems.  Somewhere in there we laughed and laughed, but the funnier points of the evening remain dormant in the bottom of the bottle and can only be released with fresh infusions.

Southern Cross

This is the Southern Cross in opals, seen in a jewelry store. 

Pretty.  Here's what the real southern cross looks like.

The Melbourne Cup

Walking around downtown Sydney on Tuesday, we saw a woman in a pale pink pantsuit and frilly hat.

"Now there's something we don't usually see," I said to Hans and nodded towards the woman.  She looked stylish, but just not quite right.  Shortly afterwards, we saw a couple and the lady was wearing a pretty slinky black dress with a frivolous little netted hat perched rakishly on the side of her head, big red bow adding a splash of drama.  Her companion was dressed in a dark suit and I thought, she's either a hooker or they're part of a theatre group in dress rehearsal taking a quick break for lunch.

Then we saw more ladies dressed up, all wearing adorable little hats.

Finally we just had to stop some of them and ask.  Turns out, today was the day they ran the Melbourne Cup, a hugely popular horse race in, well, Melbourne.  It's a big deal even in Sydney and companies usually shut down at noon giving their staff the afternoon off to watch the race on TV.  Many bars and hotels and taken over by corporations who lay out a sumptuous spread of food and drink for their staff to enjoy.  Amidst all the private parties we saw going on in various bars downtown, there were also a few public watering holes.  We chose one outdoors where we slipped in the with locals and enjoyed a glass of wine while watching the race unfold.

"Who won?" Hans asked someone after the race was run and a raucous cheer went up from the crowd.

"No idea, mate." 

But a good time was had by all.

The Opera House

Here's something you may not know about the Sydney Opera House (unless you've read Bill Bryson's book, "In a Sunburned Country" and also published as "Down Under").

It was designed by architect Jorn Utzon, a Dane.  There was much kerfuffle during its construction with huge cost overruns and other internal battles being waged.  At one point Utzon had returned to Denmark and when he tried to come back to Australia, he was arrested at the airport for bringing with him a selection of porn.  Banned from Australia, he never saw the finished Opera House and thereby missed out on seeing his own, finest erection.

Odds and Sods

We took a bus into the city yesterday for a day of walking around.  It was easy-peasy.  Just one bus from Glenn and Fern's home right to the end of the line, which drops us at Town Hall by the Statue of Queen Victoria.  And no, that's not it above.

An elderly lady entered the bus and all the seats were taken.  Hans was getting ready to offer his seat when  a nice Australian gentlement not only gave her his seat, but assisted her to it.  He got off the bus before she did, but when it came time for her to leave, a very nice, very young man and another lady took her arms and helped her off.  It chokes me up just to remember it, and I was so gratified to see evidence of such polite good manners.  Australians are a lot like Canadians.

And in a totally unrelated note, we walked into the NSW Parliament building.  I'd like to tell you it's because I have an overwhelming interest in their parliamentary system, but really, I was desperate for a toilet.  But we did get ushered into a room with a number of young people who were going to do some role-playing on how the system works and the guide mistakenly took us for members of this group.  When we admitted we had nothing to do with them, we were still invited to sit in an listen, which we did for a while, and I learned something.  The word Parliament comes from the French word to speak:  parler.

Jacaranda Trees

Aren't they gorgeous?  These beautiful lilac trees are in bloom everywhere.  Fern tells us that she always associated them with exam time since their blooming was a signal that it was time to hit the books because the tests were right around the corner.

Sydney, at last

Our Sydney hostess Fern met us at the airport and to our collective relief, Hans had no trouble inserting our various pieces of luggage and golf clubs into their SUV.  Good thing, though, that Glenn was off on a business trip so we could use his seat for a suitcase.

Despite the several weighty pieces we came with, we’re actually travelling quite light.  Most of the weight and space in our bags is taken up by gifts from Canada for the many Rotarians we’ll be visiting during our 10 week odyssey.  This turned out to be mistake number one on my part.  Not the gifts,  but in my frenzy to keep the suitcases light and ever mindful of every ounce I was packing, I opted to bring a flimsy white jacket instead of the heavier one in my original plan.  And in the last minute, I also tossed out the black turtleneck thinking, “Why in God’s name am I bringing this?  I’ll never wear it and then I’ll have to cart it around Australia for 2 months.”  So I flung it out.  That was Mistake Number Two.

“Should we bring an umbrella?” Hans asked as we were getting ready to leave Phoenix.   “Why?” I asked.   “If it’s pouring, we won’t be sighting-seeing and besides, we’ll be with the team and in our bus.”  Mistake Number Three.

I totally forgot that we have 4 days in Sydney before our Friendship Exchange.  And, just to remind me not to take the Weather Gods so cavalierly, it’s not only raining very hard in Sydney, there’s also a chilly, brisk wind.  Like Heidi, I’m wearing all my clothes today and not one of them has long sleeves.

I had hopefully been expecting a Goldilocks day.  Not too hot and not too cold.  Just right. 

Maybe tomorrow.

Where did it go?

When you fly from North America to Australia, and without anyone asking you how you feel about it, a day is taken away from you.

We left Phoenix on October 30 and arrived in Sydney on November 1.  For us, there was no October 31, no Halloween.  I’‘m not at all sure where it went but we’ll get it back on our return.  However, we still missed Halloween.

Nevertheless, I was delighted to find myself freed from a sealed airplane when we finally deplaned in Sydney. Really.  It's brutally long, 14 hours and 38 minutes.

Sydney is a place at once recognizably similar but decidedly different.  Similar in that everyone spoke English and I was surprised not to hear thick Australian accents tumbling out all around me.  So far, nearly everyone I've heard has only a mild accent.  Kindly, they've said nothing about mine.

And different because everything is topsy turvy, primarily the traffic.  On arrival, I tried to get into Fern's driving seat!  Luckily, she quickly directed me to the other side where I no doubt make a far better passenger than driver.

And we're off!

Omigod.  Our copilot is fresh and pink cheeked.  I don't think he's old enough to shave yet.
And in a related note, we have left, but we haven't yet arrived.  Soon, Sydney, soon.

Here we are

This is our Canadian Team wearing the new Rotary vests that will be our uniform when we visit the various clubs in New South Wales.

Notice our bright smiles? 

As Donna was preparing to take the first of four pictures, she said,"On the count of three, say sex."  Obediently we did and big smiles split our faces.  With the second camera, she repeated her instructions.  "On the count of three, say sex."  Again, big smiles.  Once again with the third camera.  Then, before she could take the fourth photo, the flash went off.

"Premature..." said someone.

Biggest smiles yet.