An explanation is under each photo, and I've tried to post them in chronological order: I left on a Thursday and arrived on a Friday late afternoon. I got back to Scarsdale late Wednesday in early September.
Jacqui and Andrew Gold's home on Mount Gravatt in Brisbane, where I stayed. They are in their jammies waving to us on the right. This is a typical Queensland, or tropical, home. Raised on "stilts" for air circulation in the humid, hot air. I also found it interesting that there are no screens on the doors or windows, yet they are left open. When I asked about this, they said most Queensland homes are like that.
Saturday on the Sunshine Coast
King's Beach...a mum watching her little ones in matching red hats. Just think; this is the South Pacific Ocean. Across that broad sea heading northwest is my hometown...about 9,000 miles away.
King's Beach. I love the trees here...Norfolk Island Pines.
A cargo ship is heading into the Brisbane port. Notice the containers on board. All my personal belongings deemed worthy of transport from America came down this very shipping route near King's Beach in a container on a ship like this one.
Busy Sunday
We went shopping for picnic supplies at this Safeway on Sunday. Several open shopping centers have car parks (parking lots) covered like this to keep the sun off the car. Car sale lots are all covered too, because the sun damages the paint and the interior. Yes, it gets that hot from about November through February or March. This was in early September...the end of winter.
Touring Brisbane, otherwise known as Brissy
This would be a better photo of the Brisbane skyline if there weren't so many power lines in it. But it's the best shot I could get. Beautiful Sunday morning.
How NOT to take a photo. I accidentally gave Andrew rabbit ears with what appears to be a power line structure. We're at the Bulimba boarding area to take a CityCat ride into the heart of Brisbane, about a 30-minute ride with a few stops along the way. CityCats are public transportation catamarans that carry people up and down the Brisbane River. Some people use buses or taxis, others use the CityCat.
CityCat
CityCat
Brisbane River heading into the city.
Our destination. Notice the very old building with the green dome on the left, amidst the newer skyscrapers. Australians have been pretty good about preserving historic buildings. This old one is the Customs House.
Once off the CityCat, we headed for the City Botanic Gardens. It was established in 1855 on 20 hectares and was originally known as "Queen's Park." Lots of interesting, tropical plants to see.
Andrew is explaining to Jacqs and me about these trees that have ropey roots growing from branches down to the ground and forming new trees. I was an attentive student (me in denim jacket and longer hair) but for the life of me I can't remember the name of the tree.
From left, Steve, Jacqs and Andrew with these weird trees.
An elkhorn plant using a fig tree as host.
We walked from the quiet, shaded gardens out a gate and into a busy city street. Andrew was a man on a mission; he wanted to treat me to authentic Belgian beer with beer-battered chips (like steak fries) at a Belgian Pub.
At last...a cold brew awaits. Loved the building.
Jason, my beer connoisseur son, would be jealous. "C'mon in mate. We'll shout ya a round or two."
As if the day wasn't already chock-a-block full, we headed to Daisy Hill for a Father's Day picnic for Andrew's father who lives nearby. Father's Day is the first weekend in September here, although Mother's Day is the same everywhere. Go figure. It was a beautiful park. While we enjoyed cold chicken, veggies, fruit and the men downed a few stubbies of brew, various wild critters entertained us.
This young koala traveled down this tree, across a grassy area, sat on it's discolored, dirty bum and watched a dog barking, then scampered up another gum tree where he wandered out on
skinny branches and sleepily stuffed the narrow, fragrant leaves into his mouth.
This mama wallaby is hiding her infant upside-down in her pouch. That weird dangly thing is the baby's tail. You can see the bulges from the little one in her lower tummy. Mama's just eating grass and ignoring everyone.
This Kookaburra is so intent on beating that already dead piece of meat against a log that he doesn't seem to notice Mr. Crow watching him. The meat was likely stolen from someone's unattended barbie (barbecue.)
While Jacqs and Andrew went off to work on Monday, I went to the Gold Coast for the day. It's not as nice as the Sunshine coast to the north. I didn't like the glitzy, American feel to the place, and it was pretty crowded. Nonethless I had a great time and at least I can say I've been there.
If you look closely, you can see Ibises (stork-like birds) looking for brekky. Breakfast is shortened to however you want to spell it.
Entering the Surfer's Paradise area. Here's a story: in 1917 a real estate agent was trying to sell mudflat land at a place called Umbigumbi on the Nerang River. He changed the name of the area to something more evocative and chose "Surfer's Paradise." By the 1920s a hotel had been built there and the area was gaining mild popularity. By 1950, development was still slow when travel writer Colin Simpson paid a visit. He was not impressed. He agreed with the Brisbane journalist who write that only the rich could afford to pay such prices for mudflats and mangroves. That journalist sarcastically called the area "The Gold Coast." As a result, Simpson did not buy land at Surfer's Paradise in 1950 and therefore, as he ruefully remarked, he did not become a rich man. Two years later Surfer's Paradise began to boom, and the boom has not stopped yet.
Looking south toward Coolangatta. Thunder cells forming.
Looking north toward Surfer's Paradise.
Closer look at Surfer's Paradise. The flags are for swimmers' safety. Swim between the flagged areas which have already been scoped out and deemed safer from undertows and sharks and other bad "bite-yous." The surfboard on the beach belongs to the lifeguard.
I came home with lots of different shells for my collection.
Surfing with a paddle. It looked pretty difficult. This person took lots of tumbles.
Heading home on Tuesday
Out of tropical Queensland and into New South Wales. The land here is drier and just as hot, and is on the edge of the vast outback. This portion of the state is called The Long Paddock. It's a historic network of stock-driving tracks and trails that linked the stock breeding areas of the inland with growing markets in the south. It also provided an escape route from drought when seasons failed. Drovers (sort of like cowboys) traversed the Riverina basin in the north toward Sydney (to the southeast) and the state of Victoria's Melbourne (directly south.) It also covers an area of about 2.27 million hectares. Historic touring routes cross rivers such as the Murray, Edward, Murumbidgee, Lachlan and Darling. Visitors can traverse through Echuca-Moama, Mathoura, Deniliquin, Pretty Pine, Wanganella, Booroorban, Hay, Booligal, Ivanhoe and Wilcannia. (Source is The Long Paddock website.) I have fun trying to pronounce things here.
Moovin' along.
This little church is on the corner of somewhere in the middle of New South Wales. Interesting that it's yard is a cemetery. Some of those headstones are pretty old, and belong to pioneers of Australia.
Sun is setting in the west and Buster is getting tired. He's a great little traveler.
Beautiful New South Wales sunset.
Ya take the bird on a road trip with ya! Too funny, almost redneckie....
ReplyDeleteI know it looks funny to take a bird, but there are several reasons. One, Buster is too young to be left for himself for a week and we don't have a birdsitter; and two, nights at that time experienced heavy frost, which will kill a pet bird left out overnight. So, Buster came with us. Nice to know he can travel though. He's entertaining.
ReplyDeleteHeidi