An eccentric artist, a mad driver and a bit of a rant - but who cares he rescued us

Back at the top of the hill and again with mobile phone access I rang the NRMA, planning to explain my predicament, negotiate and pay for membership then get them to send their nearest breakdown truck to rescue us as soon as possible. However it is impossible to negotiate with one of my pet hates - automated answering systems that give you six options, followed by a further six and, if you stick in long enough you get back to the beginning and have to start all over again. All I wanted was a human voice  to speak to.

As I attempted to try again I heard what sounded like a car coming up the hill. Sure enough an ancient beaten-up old saloon car with a twenty foot metal pole strapped to the roof was heading up the track towards me at break neck speed. Narrowly missing me with the pole - presumably material for future creations - the car skidded to a halt. The driver - an old guy but probably not much older than myself - announced that he had spoken to Sandra at the bottom of the hill, was aware of the situation and was going up to the house to get a set of jump leads.

This was Vic - our saviour.

I re-joined Sandra to wait for Vic who duly arrived with the guard dog from the house which I had met earlier and was called Robbie. Robbie was a "pure bred Australian Terrier" - whatever that may be. Sandra jumped into the front seat beside Vic and, when I opened the back door, I discovered that the rear seats had been removed and I had to rattle around in the back - with rattle being the operative word. I suspect that in an earlier phase of his life Vic may have been a rally driver judging by the way he drove back along the road that it had taken Sandra and I three and a half hours to walk. For almost the whole journey Vic ranted and was particularly upset at what the mining companies were doing to the area. Vast swathes of countryside were being bought up for open cut mine development resulting in plummeting property values and depopulation. The local town, that had once had shops and a thriving community, is now almost a ghost town.

Back at our car Vic produced jump leads and we quickly got the car started. I was about to suggest that he should follow us out just in case it stalled but he seemed very anxious to get away and, after a brief shake of the hand and a somewhat reluctant photograph - he and Robbie were gone.

Car re-started

Vic and Robbie

Sandra, Vic and Robbie

Managing not to stall the engine Sandra and I headed for Mudgee where we refuelled and had a very late lunch. From there it was a straightforward run down to Lithgow and Katoomba then back to Sydney only three hours late for Johann's celebratory birthday dinner - which had been postponed.

The car goes into the garage tomorrow for a re-fit - I'll be mentioning battery problems!
Sandra and I also need a re-fit !!

Well it looks like our 2014 trip is shaping up to be as disaster prone as our 2010 trip - and to cap it all, as I write it is bucketing down in Sydney - deja vue all over again!

Glorious Isolation - not all it's cracked up to be

As I write this I suppose you could say I am in recovery mode. My legs are aching, I've had a dose of the sun and keep asking myself "Do I really want to do this?". Sandra too is suffering, with her broken ankle having taken a bit of a battering. Mind you, it all started so idyllically .......

Camping by the Goulburn River was very pleasant with only kangaroos for company - we decided to stay for two nights with not another camper to be seen - splendid isolation. On the second morning, having eaten our way through our food and almost all of our water gone, we packed up camp to start out for Sydney some 300k away. We were planning to get back in time for Sandra's sister's "significant" birthday dinner (Beatles - "When I'm 64") and take our time sightseeing. However, with the car about to be packed, I put the key in the ignitiopn and .... absolutely nothing .... flat as the proverbial pancake.

The calm before the storm

Having parked on a flat bit of ground there was no chance of a push start - even if there was anyone to push. The only feasible hill in the near vicinity was down to the river but we reckoned that a move in that direction might be out of the frying pan and into the fire - probably in spades! As we were at the end of the road (literally as well as metaphorically) with no possibility of passing traffic and with no phone or internet access our options were limited. Should we stay by the car and hope for help (as per received wisdom) or start to walk out - after all it was only 24k? We decided to walk.

Packing all essential items into Sandra's backpack (mobile phone, iPad, mobile internet thingy, a camera and a gadget for charging all the other gadgets - along with our last few drops of water and a packet of biscuits for cheese) we set off on foot. We were not really expecting to walk all the way out but thought that if we could reach higher ground we might get phone or internet access and summon help.

"We've been climbing for hours, there must be a phone signal around here somewhere!"

The first hour was mainly uphill but, despite trying umpteen times, there was no phone access. The track provided a reasonable walking surface but the killer was the sun and by mid-day we were starting to wilt. Sandra, who usually manages to rise to most occasions when it comes to equipment for sewing, failed miserably when I asked her for a thimble to help with the water rationing! On a more serious note, her ankle which she broke a few weeks ago was starting to cause problems and I was beginning to regret not leaving her with the car whilst I went for help on my own.

We saw a couple of houses which looked a bit derelict but, as it would probably have taken the best part of an hour to get to them with very little chance of assistance, we decided to plod on. We weren't able to say exactly how far we had walked, but after about three and a half hours Sandra's ankle was starting to give in and my dodgy legs were none too clever - a new plan was required. At the top of a nearby hill was a house which looked as if it might be inhabited. Leaving Sandra at the bottom of the road in case a car came by, I headed uphill -  and eventually found myself in an amazing wonderland dreamed up by a demented artist-cum-welder.

The track up the hill was lined with what I assumed were artistic creations - weird objects, mainly put together from welded pieces of metal. The entrance, to what in more normal surroundings would have been the garden, was protccted by a cannon made from a metal drain-pipe welded to a set of metal wheels. Beyond that was a bright yellow mini car (the original version) on the top a pole with a mannequin as a driver, beyond the mini was a space rocket looking like something out of a Dan Dare comic.

Approaching the house I saw the door was open and assumed someone would be home. Knocking on the door and giving a shout got no response except for a small hairy dog to which I assumed that the "Beware of the Dog" sign referred. He didn't seem to upset about an intruder.


The house was an amazing hotch-potch of the most eclectic collection of absolute rubbish I had ever seen. Tables, chairs and bookcases sagged with piles of assorted bric-a-brac obviously destined for future artistic creations. Deciding not to intrude too far I had a look around outside and, after falling over a collection of car batteries, found a row of open sided sheds  also full of similar stuff. A few more shouts but it was obvious the owner was either not at home or in hiding.

On the way back down the hill I discovered that I had a phone connection and gave the National Parks people a call and hoped to hear that a Park Ranger would be doing his rounds later in the day. No such luck - the best they could offer was the suggestion that I joined a breakdown organisation such as the NRMA (equivalent to the AA)  and gave me the number - which I had to scratch in the dirt as I had no pen. I trekked back down the hill to Sandra as she had my wallet and credit card and told her I was off to join the NRMA - and that help would soon be in the way . I didn't really believe this but was trying to keep her spirits up - but I don't think she believed it either.

I turned and trudged back up the hill again.

A trial run - and almost a Trial!



An isolated camp by the Goulburn River

I'm typing this from our camp beside the Goulburn River in New South Wales – in between having a cool breakfast beer (apart from water that's all we've got) and watching a couple of Kangaroos having breakfast on the opposite bank. Although only a few hundred kilometres from Sydney it feels gloriously remote and we are in splendid isolation. We are having a “trial run” before setting out on the main trip – the route of which has yet to be decided. The main purpose is to test out our camping equipment that we left here last time and to try out Johann's spare tent as we sold the

wonderful Oztent we used on our last trip. However, before we got here ….....

Our neighbours at Goulburn

After two week we completed our work on Steven's new house and had renovated two bedrooms. There's still a lot to be done but our time is short and our skills are wanting – I am no architect, builder, electrician, plumber etc. One of the last jobs we did was to renovate the Victorian fireplace in one of the bedrooms. We had toyed with the idea of removing what was a fairly tatty looking affair but decided that doing it up was a better (i.e. much easier!) option.

The almost finished fireplace - all the way from the Carron Iron Works

One of the things that amuses and intrigues me in life is finding connections. During 2013 much of Sandra's spare time was spent working on The Great Tapestry of Scotland – about 160 embroidered panels detailing the history of Scotland from pre-historic times right through to the present. One of the panels Sandra worked on included a depiction of the Carron Iron Works near Falkirk in Scotland. It was a time when Scotland was the engineering powerhouse of the Empire with machinery and steel products being sent from Central Scotland to all corners of the world. We dismantled Steven's fireplace and started to clear off many decades of solid soot and rust to find that it had been manufactured in the same Carron Iron Works that Sandra had been working on last year. I liked that connection.

The other purpose of this trip was to visit my cousin Cath and her husband Alan who live in Toronto near Newcastle (the Australian versions) and our rather convoluted route took us to a place called Wisemans Ferry. We drove slowly through the village and decided to have a look at the ferry then go back to the pub for a refreshment before taking the ferry across the river. We arrived at the ferry and found ourselves in a queue of traffic waiting to cross the river – if only we had decided to give the pub a miss and just get on to the ferry, things might have been a little pleasanter – however.......

Finding ourselves in a queue we didn't want to be in, we did to my mind the only sensible thing and did a U turn. We turned out of the line of stationery traffic onto the other side of the road which was completely clear as the ferry was still on the other side of the river. Then all hell broke loose with blue and red flashing lights and running policemen! Assuming it was nothing to do with me I started to drive off but a look in the mirror decided me to stop – I didn't think the Honda was going to win if it came to a car chase!

Getting out of the car I walked towards one of New South Wales finest, looking as innocent as possible – which wasn't difficult as, as far as I was concerned I had done nothing wrong. I was informed in no uncertain terms that I had committed a traffic violation and was asked to produce my driving licence. Intrigued, I politely inquired what I had done wrong and was informed that in Australia it was against the law to cross a double solid white line and that, as the ferry queue was defined by a double solid white line, I had broken the law by doing a U-turn. Well it's an offence in Scotland to cross a double solid white line but commonsense would normally prevail. I asked him, still politely, what I should have done in the circumstances in which I had found myself and could hardly believe the nonsense he came out with. Apparently all good, law-abiding Australian citizens finding themselves in such a predicament would have sat in their car and waited for the ferry to arrive. When the ferry had unloaded it's vehicles the queue would have started to move forward and, arriving at the end of the double line, the good citizen, instead of going on to the ferry, would have pulled to one side, let the ferry traffic which had built up behind him pass, and only then do a U turn. I know of no Australian or any sensible person who would have done this.

Hearing such a load of obvious drivel I found myself in the almost impossible position of having to bite my tongue as my jaw dropped. Experience has taught me that it is better not to argue in these circumstances however much you feel you are in the right. When I produced my licence he said he was glad to see it was a British one as, if it had been a NSW one I would have been charged – as it was I got off with a caution.

Whilst experience has taught me that it is better not to argue in these circumstances – Sandra has yet to learn and she decided to have a go at him. Culminating in her demanding “Are there any other laws we should be aware of?” To which he replied “Yeah, thousands, but I ain't got time to go through them all with you now!” as he turned menacingly towards another tourist who approached him with a map to ask directions.

The police in Wisemans Ferry are really at the cutting edge of law enforcement.

Eventually crossing the ferry without further mishap – I had a coke in the pub, just in case – all the ferry traffic turned right, so we turned left. We were making for Mangrove Mountain on our way to Toronto and the satnav suggested there was a route which would get us there following minor roads. When the tarred road gave way to dirt we realised why vehicles were few and far between and why all the ferry traffic turned right. Being experienced travellers with a good dose of foolhardiness thrown in, we persevered on our rapidly deteriorating track heartened by the fact the satnav indicated a right turn in about 10k would get us on to the right road. At the 10k mark the “road” duly appeared – a small forest track which, probably fortuitously, had a barrier across it with a Road Closed sign. Closer inspection showed that it had been closed for a couple of years. I suspect the satnav we were using hadn't been updated recently!

Never trust a satnav!

We were tempted to carry on to see if we could find another way through but, as we were expected in Toronto for afternoon tea, we decided to backtrack and continued our journey, even negotiating a mighty river crossing, without further mishap.

Australian Converts

Cath is my second cousin, very into Douglas family history, and is probably the main archivist of this branchbof the family. The weekend was spent amiably getting up to date with family, looking at photos, meeting both old and new friends and, Cath being Cath, assaulted with enormous amounts of food at very frequent intervals – she had even laid on a copious amount of beer just for me. On Sunday morning Linda, Cath's daughter, was having a “crafting morning” and it was all I could do to drag Sandra away.

The Toronto Crafters plus friend

We decided to head from Toronto to camp for a couple of nights in the Goulburn River National Park. Travelling through Cessnock and Jerrys Plains we arrived at Denman for a quick picnic lunch where we discovered that the bag containing “a few leftovers” Cath had insisted we took, contained enough to feed a family of four for a week! A whole chicken, a quiche, pack of tomatoes, a whole lettuce, bottles of beer, pack of butter and a box packed with three different types of cake. If you read this Cath – Thank You.

Needless to say we got lost trying to find the camp site – satnavs should not be relied upon when navigating forests – so I had to fall back on my old-fashioned navigation equipment – Sandra – who proved little better than her electronic counterpart. A confident “Yes, this is the right track” proved to be spectacularly wrong, and even a climb to the top of a lookout to get our bearings didn't help too much. Stumbling on a map of the park next to the lookout was our saviour and we managed the last 30k or so and got our camp set up before dark.

Surveying the countryside looking for somewhere to camp

Finally – a lesson learned (again) – we put our waste bag into the car overnight to thwart nocturnal predators, taking it out in the morning to stop the car smelling of rotting food. We forgot about daytime predators and had to fight off a giant goanna ransacking the place for the remains of last night's Singapore Chicken Stir Fry.

Moving slowly after demolishing the remains of last night's dinner

A Burns Supper

A slightly late but never-the-less enjoyable Burns Supper is the highlight of this posting. There were twelve of us round the table - most of whom originally hailed from Scotland - and it was interesting to note the Australian-ised accents starting to slip away as the evening progressed and stories of "back home" emerged.

The Selkirk Grace was followed by an enthusiastic address to the haggis where various people took a verse each with the "coup de grace" being left to me as I managed a vigorous thrust into the entrails of the beast. A range of Burns poetry was recited with iPads providing an endless source of material - although I thought my rendition of Burns' little known verse "Tae a Penis" did not go down as well as usual!

"An cut you up with ready slight - warm-reekin,rich!"

 

 

Long term readers of this blog will, I hope, appreciate that I try to amuse as well as to inform, and, whilst a small element of exaggeration may occasionally creep into the story, what you read is nothing but the truth. However tonight I am struggling with this post to find anything amusing to report as the last few days, apart from the Burns Supper, have been an endless round of IKEA, DIY Superstores and decorating. One bedroom of Steven's house is now completed and the action has moved on to the master bedroom where Ana, my daughter-in-law, has started the unenviable task of sanding the floorboards whilst I put endless amounts of filler into cracks in the plaster.

In between DIY tasks I have booked the Honda into Opposite Lock, a company specialising in preparing vehicles for off road trips - although with the Honda being a bit lightweight in the 4WD department I'm not anticipating anything too demanding. None-the-less I thought it prudent to totally replace the suspension system as well as a full service and brake check. We are also equipping it with  large fridge (mainly for beer but Sandra will probably think of other uses) up-grading the electrics with an auxiliary battery, an 80w solar panel and inverter for re-charging our host of electronic gadgets. With limited space inside the car, a large rack to hold bulky but light items on the roof will complete the upgrade.  The car will be ready by the end of the month and then we should be on our way - although where that will be we as yet have no idea.

Sydney has been hot and dry over the past week or so and all the parks are starting to look rather brown and desiccated -  however, as I type, thunder is rolling over the city and rain is falling.

A Holiday of a Lifetime

Just a short one today - I'm knackered!

Apparently the weather has taken a turn for the better - it appears the rain has stopped, the sun is shining, the skies are blue and it is pleasantly warm. However, as I have spent much of the last 48 hours either in IKEA or up a ladder stripping, filling and painting - the improvement in the weather has rather gone over my head.

IKEA is tiring at the best of times, but when your wife moans about her ankle still being sore after breaking a couple of bones in it a few weeks ago and how life would be better - at least for her - if we borrowed a wheel chair, it was more tiring than usual. Unfortunately the latest Sydney branch of IKEA is particularly enormous.



"Where is my IKEA Family Card - I'm sure I brought it with me?"

Tomorrow should be fun - final coats of paint on ceiling, walls and skirting - off to IKEA to pick up three double wardrobes for the girl's bedroom - lots of swearing as Steven and I argue about how they should be put together and cursing the pictogram type instructions. Then off to our Burns Supper - it's all go when you holiday in Australia!





"Of course I'm having a good time!"

Grandad's little helper

Haggis - and a Highland Haar

Once again "Cattle Class" with Emirates proved to be quite acceptable. I was rather worried as my friend Douglas recently returned from a trip to Australia with Emirates and informed me that, although drinks were served with meals, that was it. I'm glad to report that this was totally wrong and he should have just asked - a wide range of alcoholic drinks were available free of charge throughout the flight. In fact I had to forego my final meal otherwise I wouldn't have managed the last few beers.

Due to the Dubai rainstorm my flight from Glasgow was late and I only just managed to make the transfer between terminals to catch my flight to Sydney - on the plus side there were no queues and I just managed to squeeze onto the flight with minutes to spare before take off. The only other event of note was a passenger a couple of seats behind started to choke thus causing some consternation amongst the Emirates staff. However a woman in the seat behind me obviously had some medical training and managed to sort things out with out any fatalities.

Sandra and her sister Johann were there at the airport to greet me and by around midnight we were opening a bottle of champagne that had been kept for me since Christmas.



A Highland Haar descending upon a deserted Coogee Beach

Have you noticed that weather forecasts are becoming more accurate. Sandra had already advised me that, after weeks of fabulous weather, rain was forecast for my arrival - and sure enough .......by the time we had driven to Coogee Beach for a walk on Tuesday morning the rain had arrived. Grey skies and a heavy drizzle - a real Scottish haar - was keeping people away from the beach in their droves - and remember this is high summer. As the rain got heavier we made a beeline for the car getting drookit in the process.

A drowned rat - but still smiling

Our trip to Coogee was not only to take in the fresh air - we were also on the lookout for haggis for a rather belated Burns Supper Johann is hosting on Saturday for a group of mainly ex-pat Scots. A small butchers shop, run by a Fifer who had left home 32 years ago but still had a Methil accent you could cut with a knife, was doing a roaring trade turning out haggis for discerning Sydneysiders. Two large examples were duly bought but we managed to resist the range of other Scottish "delicacies" on display such as Irn-Bru and bars of Highland Toffee. As I posed for the haggis photo a comment was made that suggested I was holding a pair of very substantial breast implants!

A lovely pair

Wednesday - enough of recuperating from jetlag, it's time to go to work. Steven our son is in the process of buying a house and there is a big renovation and decorating job about to get underway. Trips to Bunnings (the Australian version of B & Q) and IKEA are going to loom large over the next few days - I can't wait, it will be just like being at home.

Blog readers, new and old, will probably have picked up by now that Sandra and I were stalked by the rain gods on our previous trip to Australia. You may even remember the totally true story of people writing to the National Press - The Sydney Morning Herald - asking for us to go home so that there could be some respite from the rain. To be on the safe side, this time I have packed TWO waterproofs just in case.

Before I left Glasgow it was bucketing rain. Sandra has checked the weather forecast for Sydney and the fine weather is about to break - and rain is expected just after I arrive.

As I type this I am aboard a Boeing 777 making its descent into Dubai. As most people probably know Dubai is one of the driest places on earth where rain is as rare as a female Pope. However the captain of the plane has just made an announcement - it's chucking it down in Dubai!!

I do not believe it - I knew I should have packed wellies and an umbrella.

Will try to get this posted when we splash down in Dubai - if I can get Internet access.

PS Just had another announcement from the captain - the weather is so bad there will be a delay getting landed - we are having to circle around - presumably to use up fuel to minimise fire if we crash. Shouldn't be a problem, the rain will douse the flames. Hope the delay doesn't mean I miss my connecting flight to Sydney.

Never a dull moment!

Sent from my iPad

Just a brief post and no photos whilst in transit. Currently sitting in Glasgow airport using my 30 minutes of free WiFi generously provided by the airport. Have just ordered breakfast when one of the 4 people working behind the counter eventually condescended to serve me, it's bucketing rain, it has just been announced that the flight has been delayed and Sandra has let me know that the beautiful Sydney weather is expected to break on Tuesday - I get there late on Monday night! Apart from all that things are fine and I am  glad to finally be on the move.

Mind you moving is difficult with the weight of my luggage - I managed the full 30k - including a range of extra requests from Sandra e.g. piles of material for her to make clothes, a TENS machine to help with her broken ankle pain management, snorkelling equipment and, a nice one this, a paint scraper and a pack of Stanley knife blades.

Next post should be from Sydney unless I get an opportunity during my 80 minute stopover in Dubai.