SYDNEY

Sorry, gang, still no picture access. This cafe doesn't even have machines with USB ports, so can't even try to get frustrated with uploading. Can't remember where I left off, but probably after the snorkeling at Cairns. Next morning off to the Aboriginal center which is the only one in the country run by the Abos, thus presumably "authentic." Sort of like the setup in Hawaii for the Pacific Islanders. Had a completely depressing introductory film about the grotesque treatment of the Abos for the first 150 years -- makes our treatment of the Indians almost pale by comparison, but not by much. Presentation of the "dream-time" origin of the world. Apparently we all sprang from the right calf of the original being. Not sure what to make of that, and the rest of the story was equally obscure, but then so is Catholicism. Diggereedoo (sp??) exhibition was cool. They can breath in and out while making the continuous drone. You too can have one for about $300. Or you can get some PVC pipe and do your own. It'll sound just like the originals. Abo food and natural medicine talk focused mainly on those things that give or cure diarrhea, which seemed wildly amusing to our speaker. Got some leaves of some sort for Mom to sniff at to try to cure her cold. As I write this, it's several days later, and she's still coughing and wheezing, so . . . My spear throwing (with a sort of assist-thing to multiply your arm leverage) and my boomerang attempts all ended with plowing the earth about 10 feet in front of me. I'd clearly starve in the outback. The return boomerang was principally used to curve around behind game or birds and scare them towards you where you waited with presumably a better spear aim than I can muster.

We then took off for the mountain and the rain forest where our Army Ducks awaited. These are WW II relics that have been sort of restored for motoring along rough paths and plunging into lakes and streams. Yup, six wheel drive and propellers. Rides like putting your butt on a skateboard on a cobblestone street. Our driver was an enthusiastic sort who sported a handlebar mustache, bush hat, and 22 years of the same jokes. Still, he was much better than the guy piloting the craft behind us who barged past during one of our longer exposition stops and his group finished 15 minutes before ours. About all I learned was that rain forests grow quite slowly in Australia as the downpours wash all the nutrients from the soil, leaving precious little to sustain growth. Some of the things we were looking at had been holding on for hundreds of years. We had the rearmost set of seats, so we got the most bounce for the buck when on land. Also right above the exhaust, so we jounced and wheezed our way through the jungle. Dinner was at the park after the hoards of Chinese tourists had left, and we had some tranquil time. Aussies don't know how to cook meat except full bore. Forget that barbie stuff. Back to the hotel with the intrepid Carl at the wheel. Our last evening there, so Loni and I took a walk. Still 85 degrees and 100% humidity, only now the noseeums were out in force and Loni got eaten. Our wakeup call was for 3:00 am as our bus left at 4:00 for the airport. Tried drying the clothes in front of the airconditioner, but no go. Had to pack them damp. Yuck.

Breakfast on the flight to Brisbane. Change planes. Breakfast on the flight to Melbourne (Mel-bin, here). We eat everything in case we crash in the outback. Melbourne is a very nice place, with much strange preservation of old buildings by incorporating them into new structures. The most bizarre was an old brick tower from some foundry which was preserved under a conical dome that went up at least 250 feet. This was the centerpiece of a new indoor shopping mall that was being constructed as we walked through. It's the day before Chinese New Year here, and all of Kowloon is vacationing in Melbourne. Naturally we take leader Dave's suggestion and eat at . . . his favorite Chinese restaurant! Major major mistake. No service, indifferent food, healthy prices, and athree cockroaches that appeared out of the wainskotting next to Loni's elbow. Quick work with the napkin left some nasty business for the vacuum.. G'day Dave, no more recommendations. I didn't find the authentic British pub I was looking for until just before we left the next day. Friday morning, had a good breakfast at the hotel. Always bacon, sausages, grilled tomatoes, many fruits, a strange (and untried) porridge, excellent breads for toast, etc. This is consistently the best meal of the day. Even the coffee is delicious. They grow their own beans here which supposedly have much less natural caffeine. Whatever, it's good, and even when you order it from a fast-food kiosk, they make it fresh, like expresso. Melbourne has great parks, which we walked through for hours, and one has Captain Cook's father's house transported from England and set in the middle of one of them. Except for the lack of hills, we had a strong impression of being in San Francisco. Trolly cars, great neighborhood bars and cafes, and people on foot everywhere. In the afternoon, we boarded the bus for a trip to Phillip Island, about 2 hours away, the home of the Baby Penguin parade. Those caps are intentional, as that is their official name. The smallest of all the species, they stand about 11 inches high. They burrow in the hills, and go to the sea each morning to fish all day, then return at nightfall to cross the beach and climb back to their holes to regurgitate and feed the chicks. Watching this has become the principal industry in this area, and they've set up concrete grandstands at the edge of the beach to watch the penguins emerge and waddle towards and under you. I had visions of a mass migration, which the pictures in the brochures certainly encouraged. Actually, they reluctantly come out in ones or small groups of 3 or 4, take forever to decide whether to cross the beach, and then painstakingly waddle up. Being so small, and us so far back, this is an interesting phenomenom but a less than exciting event. Thank goodness for free wine with dinner, and for Mom who doesn't drink hers! Since nightfall isn't until about 9:00, we got back to the hotel just before midnight for, yup, a 5:00 wakeup call. Off to Canberra, the capitol. Guess I'll bring that up to speed later. We've been in Sydney for two days, have seen the Koala/etc. farm, the national opal collection (and salesroom), sailed around the harbor, ate dinner (actually, very good!, supplemented by our own bottle of Sauvignon Blanc) in a revolving restaurant overlooking everything. I sure wish I could post the pictures, as some of them are pretty nice. Our bus tour around the environs had highlights Nicole Kidman's garage door (brown), the church where Elton John got married in the early 70's (say, whaaat?), and the end of an entire commercial pier that was bought by Russell Crowe for his residence. Not enough, you say? Well, stick around for the Tom Jones concert in the park at night! Be still, my heart. Today we saw the immobile wombat, sort of an overstuffed koala-type thing, and had the obligatory picture taken petting it behind the ears--don't stick you hand in front or you lose digits. Also the koalas, of course, which were placed on a railing for our photgraphic amusement, but which immediately began traversing the rail, dropping unmentionables and leaving a liquid trail. So much for cuddling up for a photo op. Oooh, musn't forget the double wattled cassowary, the fearsome echidna, or the sleeping dingo. We're now whiling away the afternoon at the ecafe, waiting for Mom to have her hair done. We left her in the care of a rather dubious looking sort, upstairs in an old building. Hope we find her again. Tonight we're off to dinner at the Sydney Opera House, and then a performance of Carmen. I'd almost rather watch the wombats again. Til next time. -J