Escalating up the East Coast

Its been a while but here's some of what's been happening since we last spoke...

Following almost 3 weeks staying in the lap of luxury in Melbourne and Sydney, I brought myself back to the backpacker life with a bump by starting the next leg of my tour -- LG meets Australia's East Coast on an overnight bus traveling a mere 13 hours.

Such a long overnight bus journey may sound like a mare but armed with my trusty fleece-cum-pillow I do actually manage to get some kip on these buses albeit in 2 hour intervals but that's better than nothing. The bus stops every 2-3 hours anyway and being in semi-zombie state you could be easily fooled into thinking that every town up the East Coast looks like a BP service station. When it gets light you do get a chance to see the towns and general scenery you are driving through but then you discover that it doesn’t look dramatically different from England or rather you definitely haven’t hit the outback yet. The only real difference that might stick out is Australia's fascination with "big things". Go past Coffs Harbour and meet the Big Banana youth hostel (banana on roof – that’s normal). Stop further up and you'll be amazed by the taste and design that's gone into the "Great Prawn restaurant" (the latter is really of Digby the Biggest Dog in the world proportions). See these sites and you’ll understand why Australia is so well known for its aesthetics (not)

My first stop on the East Coast was Byron Bay. In retrospect I should have scheduled at least 4-5 days here yet even in retro I know that I didn’t have the time. Actually I've done ok to cover what I have seeing that all my trips have been planned around making sure I'm not on the road over Shabbat. Considering the distances involved this needs not a small amount of logistics.

Anyway although a pretty essential spot on the East Coast route (I covered only a number out of quite a few potentials), Byron is hardly a typical East Coast resort. Originally and still a big surfer Mecca, Byron is now far more famous for being a huge hippie hangout. Picture one of those festivals that happen in Israel every chag or so (Shantipi, Bereshit, Segol etc) and you'll get the picture. If that's not enough to understand then perhaps you’ll get an idea from my Sydney host Marion's comment that she liked the place but she wasn’t mad about the funny people there!

Through recommendation I stayed in a hostel called the Arts Factory, infamous for its “scene” many travelers stay there for extended periods and often come back for more. As a result when I first got there (possibly as I was conscious of my limited sojourn) it seemed as if everyone knew each other and I personally found it quite intimidating and cliquey. This together with all the activities that were being pushed at me made it seem a bit like a New Age Butlins. All in all it was rather full on for my first hostel in Australia. It was thus with great relief that I bumped into Karen and Jill, my friends from Canada, who’d also just arrived and were staying in the campsite.. I went out with them in the evening to hear several of the live performances that were happening in the town's open air bars which was really rather cool.

Despite only being there for 2 days, once I'd gotten over the initial landing shock I decided to make the most of it. As well as the standard stroll and shop around town I also managed to fit in a juggling lesson (fire sticks – no flames - hopefully to be seen at a wedding near you soon) and a wonderful afternoon learning Swedish massage (probably not to be seen at a wedding unless someone severely spikes the segula wine). That was basically the highlight of my visit because as well as being incredibly relaxing (both giving and receiving) the setting was less than 10 metres away from sounds and sights of the beach.

Two hours later and I'm back on the McCafferty's bus route (technically it may have been a Greyhound bus but the latter company has actually been taken over by the former and the two names have been kept on to hide this rather huge monopoly). We traveled from Byron to Brisbane via the ‘Gold Coast’. This is the nickname given to the section of the East Coast where such famous beach resorts as Surfers Paradise can be found. Our stop there was all of five minutes but we didn’t need to be there long to note the stark difference in landscape from Byron. Coming from the fishing village look we had now arrived in the Costa Del Sol / Netanya - v tacky environs with huge blocks of flats and flashing lights. Myself and Dawn, a fellow traveler who I’d met at the bus stop at Byron whilst trying to work out if there was time to grab a snack while we waited for the bus which was late by half an hour, were both v amused by some of the typical Australian advertising displayed around the area. A prime example was an ad for flower delivery services. It read: “Want great sex?” - call this number - 1-800-flowers. (If this needs explaining then you’re safe to visit Oz without having any feminist tendencies offended).

I’ve come to the conclusion that Aussies aren’t so much tongue in cheek as tongue all out there. This is the country where everyone is informal – sports commentators have no problem in describing sportsman as w%&ers on TV (Beckham should consider himself lucky he doesn’t play Aussie rules) and I don’t think they’d even begin to understand something like the BBC 9:00 watershed. (Next week’s TV highlight is the uncut version of Temptation Island sex and all – need I say more?)

However one should not mistake this informality for emotional openness. IMHO Aussies are as emotionally repressed as the Brits and compared to the Kiwis they are far less friendly. People are nice on the whole but still customer service can get dangerously near to being compared to Israel’s. This has been a real surprise to me and it was sadly a bit of a relief when I find out that Israel isn’t as unique as I thought. They don’t have the Middle East excuse they just have “no worries mate!”. There’s even a joke that NT, the abbreviation for the Northern Territory (one of Australia’s states) actually stands for “Not today, not tomorrow, next Thursday”!

Anyway onto Brisbane (a.k.a. BrisVegas – its an ironic nickname) for a 10 hour stay in a grim city backpackers. These are the kind of hostels I hate because they look like prison blocks painted fluorescent. When choosing hostels I try to work on recommendations but this was a case of “location location location” as it was just down the road from the bus station and I was arriving late and leaving early. Whatever, it was just enough time for me to really briefly meet a group of friends who I’d then keep meeting up the coast randomly and lose a favourite top and trousers. I wouldn’t mind but I totally repacked my bag there as well! These particular garments were victims of the “left in bathroom” syndrome. It really is quite a challenge keeping track of everything. Truth is I think the average backpackers travels are 25% sightseeing and 75% repacking bags in hostels.

8:30 next morning and I’m back on the bus - destination Hervey Bay, departure point for a 3 day trip I was booked onto on Fraser Island. I needed to be at the bus station by 2:00 in time for the 3:00 orientation meeting for my trip (more details later). On this journey I couldn’t really complain about unfriendly Australians as the old lady who sat next to me almost all the way took it upon herself to give me a constant commentary. Highlights of this personal tour included an explanation of means tested public health in Brisbane and Queensland (we past the hospital), the annual Easter agricultural show, that she was a 4th or 5th generation descendant of French lace makers who came to Australia as assisted immigrants; she was on a return journey of 28 hours having visited her sister in NSW (trip used to take less than half the time before Anset Airlines went under) and that she owned a sugar cane farm that she was looking to sell off now that she was widowed and that her children had moved away but this was proving quite hard especially after the lack of rain in the rainy season. Her politic was revealed when she was particularly rude and impatient with some Japanese tourists on our bus who nearly got back onto the wrong bus at one of the rest stops (couldn’t they just learn to read properly) and when she expressed lack of sympathy about a traveler reported missing on Fraser Island (he had been smoking “those funny cigarettes” after all) Probably could have done with a bit of a break but I think she mistook my notepad for enthusiasm and anyway its always interesting hearing how it is from locals who aren’t paid to tell you.

Finally arriving at Hervey Bay I started focusing on my forthcoming trip. Fraser Island is the world’s largest sand island which is best (only?) explored by 4WD vehicles. There are various ways of visiting the island, and one much favoured amongst backpackers is the self drive option. This means that you’re put in a group of 9-11 people and you’re let loose on the island for 3 days with a 4WD jeep, food, camping equipment and suggested itinerary. I was a little apprehensive about the group I would end up with as this was my first overnight trip in Oz and all the day trips I’d been on had been made up more of couples and groups than single travelers (quite different to my New Zealand experience). Expressing this concern to a girl with whom I was in the courtesy bus from the station to the hostel, she promptly invited me to join the friends that she was meeting up with. They were a motley crew of 3 guys, 3 girls who’d met working in a fairground in Melbourne. Aged between 18 and 28 and including a Canadian (Leighanne), a German (Mia) and 4 English (Nick, Matt, Smithy and Hanna) we were soon joined by Judith, 25 from Holland (no, not Jewish) and Erica, 23 from Florida (oh yes, very Jewish) and thankfully it worked out really well.

The orientation meeting consisted of a long list of dos and don’ts about how to deal with dingoes, how to treat the island and most importantly it seemed, your vehicle. All this was obviously really important to know but it became a bit much when every warning was accompanied by a huge fine or a threat to lose our $60 bond (each!). Must lock up all food so as not to attract dingoes ($1500 fine), no driving through saltwater (lose bond if found and no cleaning of vehicle to hide evidence), must taste puddles to check difference between rain and seawater and check for depth before driving through washouts. Oy! with all that hanging over us we considered just leaving the vehicle at the car park by the ferry and walking around the island!

That done the next was step was to go to buy the food ( I left the others to order the meat and alcohol order obviously participating in the latter and not the former). I haven’t been doing too badly with my food here. I carry around my travel pots and what looks like a bag of “Ready Steady Cook” ingredients and just do the best I can (Lets not forget that a lot of the choc is ok here too!) Anyway by being one of the two to do the supermarket shop it meant that I could make sure I had stuff to cook with. The other vegetarian was Erica from America. In fact that’s how I found out she was Jewish when I was explaining to her exactly what my deal was. We both agreed that a universally recognised secret sign/code word was definitely needed when meeting a fellow member of the tribe.

I’ve had some rather funny experiences as invariably neither one asks the no go question of “Are you Jewish?” but rather going through a kind of dance of words until it is clear without saying the J word!

For beginners there’s always the good old Magen David although these days you do get some false positives so don’t assume automatically. Also the least friendly fellow Jew I met wore a very large Magen David and even did the vegetarian thing for Kosher reasons but wasn’t interested in J-bonding at all.

Knowledge of Israel is often a giveaway as well. For example there was a particularly WASPy looking couple in the Blue Mountains who asked me where in Jerusalem I lived which was slightly more revealing than asking where in Israel. However still not 100% proof I responded with “Why, do you have friends or family there?” The yes to family confirmed it. Of course if I’d just picked up that the two were New Yorkers - a Doctor and a Lawyer I should have known…. (they’d just been doing voluntary work in Lima with the JDC as well).

Next to the guy in New Zealand who after a few beers started singing Dayenu my favourite (probably for its subtlety I think) was the ex-Habo girl I met in Byron who I hadn’t clicked to being Jewish at all until she said “I think we’ve met before” very quietly. When I responded “Oh really where are you from? her response of “I live in Archway but my parents are from ‘The Suburb’ ” that said it all to me. I’ve come to realize meeting English people everywhere that I grew up in an almost an alternative Jewish North West London vocabulary – an invisible lingual ghetto if you wish.

Anyway back to the shopping which was done at the local equivalent of Sainsburys/Mega. It actually became rather like Dale Winton’s supermarket sweep when the Hostel’s courtesy bus was rather discourteous and left without us twice but we managed in the end thanks to taxis and kind locals.

Next morning we were up bright and early to receive our vehicle and equipment. Before leaving we had to collect all the equipment and I was given the responsibility of inspecting the car for damage already done. Years of buying shoes with my mother prepared me for this task and once the form was filled in (and then some) we were on our way to the ferry over.

Fraser Island really is a spectacular place made up of rainforests with sand trails plus beautiful lakes and sea. Our days were spent driving around the island visiting its various sites. The first and I think most famous of these was Lake McKenzie – a rain water lake which is totally clear with stunning colour gradients running from the white white sands through to aqua shallow water and dark navy deep water in the center. A drastic change from the normal gold and green combinations. One of the dos and don’ts that we were told was not to use sun screen before entering the lake as it was bad for the environment. Of course there’s nothing wrong about using it afterwards which I promptly forgot meaning I burnt something rotten but I guess my sacrifice was for the good of the ecosystem!

The group agreed not to rush around the sites just to tick them off a check list but we still managed to get to most of them. The next lake we visited was Lake Wabby a stunning lake hidden down amongst wonderful sand dunes, viewed through a lookout but best appreciated by taking the time to take the 20 minute walk down. There you could choose to sit out on the beautiful stretch of sand going out to the horizon (for images see the final scene in Shakespeare in Love) or roll down the sand dune straight into the lake.

Other sites included Eli Creek – walk through or by on the boardwalk; Lake Allom (?) – nicknamed the tea lake as it literally was the colour of tea complete with matching sand; Lake Birabeen (?) where you can swim with the turtles if you don’t scare them off first; the rusted remains of a huge shipwreck – from 60-70 years ago we think. Please excuse the question marks but being self guide the experience was more experiential than factual!

We slept out in tents by the beach. There were proper campsites further inland but inland was not an option when you could camp as the sun set over the sea (we couldn’t swim in it because of currents and sharks but a midnight paddle was fine) and anyway the campsites had 9:00 noise curfews. Most groups chose the beach as well but we tried to be a bit exclusive and not do the whole mass group thing which meant that both nights we were in pretty isolated areas. By deciding this we forfeited the luxury of the campsite’s conveniences. That said we had been supplied with a shovel for a purpose and it was soon decided that one had not had the true Fraser experience if you hadn’t used it as intended!

Nothing beats sleeping out especially as IMHO the southern hemisphere got the better deal when the stars were dealt out. My body clock worked particularly efficiently for a change and woke me up 5 mins before sunrise on both mornings. Its amazing that with all my travels its the things that you don’t have to pay for and in theory you can get anywhere – the stars and the sun – that are the most memorable.

If life is about the journey and not just the destination then it was the same for Fraser Island. One of the highlights for me was driving a 4WD vehicle. There were two types of driving. One was on the beach- the busiest you’d ever encounter almost highway like and the other was full on up and down through the sand trails learning when to use low and high 4WD gears as the sand went from wettish to light and fluffy often with little warning. All this was done whilst trying to think of the poor passengers in the back who had to grasp on to all the equipment as we had no roof rack. Well the first day of the trip was actually Yom Haatzmaut so I celebrated in my own way — the others had a BBQ and I drove badly!

It was a wonderful trip and we were sad to leave on Friday. What was so cool was being out of touch with the outside world – anything could have happened and we wouldn’t have known. I was slightly reminded of my other life though when I bumped into an ex-chanicha from Salford BA days after breakfast on the 3rd day! What’s more she was in a group with the lads I’d met in Brisbane. Its a small world but I wouldn’t want to paint it!

When we did get back we had a bit of a stations tochnit returning and cleaning everything in time but all was good and not only did we get our $60 bonds back but we also got $4 out of our $10 petrol deposit back which was rapidly exchanged for alternative fuel at the bar!

Shabbat was spent in Hervey Bay, a pleasant enough town, slightly reminiscent of a Southern American town judging by the amount of country & western and religious radio stations we found when trying to tune the 4WD’s radio in. Nothing much else to write home about – oh shame on me, how can I say that? I do have a vague recollection of a big shark on a restaurant somewhere!

Next on my East Coast agenda was a boat trip through the stunning Whitsunday Islands, a group of seventy plus islands off the coast of Australia at the start of the Great Barrier Reef. Of course no 2 day trip through idyllic waters can be fully appreciated unless one has completed another overnight bus to get to the departure point! Leaving Hervey Bay 10:00pm on Sat night I arrived 11am in Airlie Beach. Quite a pleasant holiday resort, the name is a bit misleading as there isn’t actually a beach there although there is a harbour which is where we were to meet our boat the next day. The truth is that as you go up the coast the sea becomes more and more out of bounds for regular bathers as the Stinger season coincides almost exactly with the summer season. (You can swim in the sea you just have to wear stinger suits which is cool for snorkeling just not that effective for tanning purposes!) To make up for this Airlie Beach has a lagoon – a kind of landscaped out door pool – this is a common solution in Australia, for example, Brisbane also has one.

There are various packages available to explore the Whitsunday Islands – large catamarans, small sailing boats, overnight cruise, island stays etc. As a result of my squeezed timetable I ended up booking a boat “The Pride of Airlie” which took around 35 people and docked both nights on the privately owned South Molle Island. I probably would have liked to have tried sleeping out on the open waves but it was not to be this time so I decided to grin and bear it and stay on a tropical island resort instead!

The first day of our trip basically just took us to the island. Although we as backpackers were quickly shoved to a different side to the posh people it really was a fantasy island kind of resort. (Well it was good entertainment looking at the people on our boat and trying to work out their issues that they’d come to the island to resolve!) Before supper whilst others played golf or swam, myself and a couple of the others (the Fraser Island gang minus Mia were on the boat too) took a 20 minute walk over to Paddle Bay to view the sunset from the coral beach (no taking home corals on pain of big fines at airport).

I’ve become horribly blase about sunsets but I kinda like the theory that Smithy came up with which can make for more active viewing. Essentially looking at the whole sky, and not just the west where the sun is setting, you see all the colours of the rainbow – red, orange and yellow are the obvious ones then going further up the sky there’s a hint of green and then you get the stunning blue, indigo and violet effects. Nice, eh? Sundown and back for supper and then what better way to end the evening than a Jacuzzi by the pool?

This relaxing evening was very needed as we had an early start and one needs a lot of energy for sitting on the deck lapping up the sun and sailing through straits such as the Hook Island Passage on still blue seas, past lush green islands. This can be quite stressful if you haven’t had enough sleep! Most of the islands are untouched but several have resorts. We did pass one which was very tackily built up with 70s looking hotels – the biggest hotel ever apparently (Confession - I’m starting to disbelieve all these biggest and largest claims, enough already) – but in general things were tasteful.

Our first stop was at the famous Whitehaven beach which gets it stunning white colour from the 97% silica of its “sands”. The lighter blue colour of the sea is attributed to our distance from the South Pole which also increases the ability to float. I must have looked stunning (well others looked stunned!) when I chose to jump off the boat (in my stinger suit) and swim into the beach instead of catching the dinghy. I didn’t get to the lookout for the best views but instead did a quick refresher lesson for snorkeling. When later we stopped at a bay to go snorkeling I couldn’t believe how quickly an hour went. I was using a float which made me feel safer and less panicky and as we had to be careful not to tread on the reef (takes 5 years for an inch growth) that also helped me not crush thousands of years of growth. I just had a blast floating around snapping away with my underwater camera.

Snorkeling was my limit for underwater exploration as I cant dive due to being a slight claustrophobe and asthmatic – I have to wheeze in very open spaces – but I loved it anyway. Whilst swimming around I found myself thinking that this was the most amazing experience and then wondering at how many times I’d thought that in the last two months. I really am so grateful for having the chance to do so many incredible things and all in such a short space of time. I’m probably getting rather spoilt. Hopefully the mundane will have some kind of novelty by the time I get back. Then again its made me think that not all at home is mundane and these adventures need not be limited to going abroad. For example when snorkeling it made me question why on earth it had been ten years since I’d last snorkeled in Eilat. I will NOT wait another ten years I promise!

Nor are all adventures of the action kind. Sometimes everyday occurrences can be elevated to an adventure when put in a different setting. Like bumping into a friend for example. I was just drying off from snorkeling when not quite sure how much water I’d swallowed but I was sure I could hear someone yelling “Is there a Lisa Gold on your boat?” I quickly rush over to starboard or whatever that part of the boat is called and incredibly enough there was my friend Ilana Lipski on a passing boat. Having met up in Melbourne we had been trying unsuccessfully for the last couple of weeks to arrange to meet up in Queensland. What mobile phones and e-mail had failed to do the magic of the sea did instead!

Our third day saw more lazing and snorkeling and a completion of our journey around most of the islands by around 2:30pm. All in all the boat was fun but 35 people was a bit too much, a group of 14-20 staying on the boat would probably have been better – then again I also heard other stories of severe sea sickness, uncomfy bunks and running out of water on the boat so you never can tell.

Fresh back from the boat no rest for the wicked and it was just a case of whiling away the ten hours or so before catching the 1 am bus through to Cairns. I didn’t have a hostel room but the Fraser gang let me shower and crash in their hostel room until I set out. On my way down to the bus stop I met up with Jen and Vicky from York, gap year travelers. We chatted and I even texted a friend using Vicky’s mobile and it was while talking about the mobile that something happened that made me realise how small the backpacker world is. I was saying how I was having a break from mobiles and Vicky said that she had it mainly because of her boyfriend back home but anyway it was very useful for emergencies. For example they were traveling with a 3rd girl who had to go back to England for a funeral and was meeting up with them again in Sydney. It then transpired that this wasn’t just any funeral but rather it was for their school friend Caroline who had been tragically murdered in Bundaberg just a couple of weeks before, an event that I think most of you heard about. When something bad happens in Israel I almost expect to know someone who knows someone but it never occurred to me that it could be the same elsewhere in the world.

I arrived in Cairns at 11 am, an appropriate hour I thought, considering it was Anzac Day (25th April). I hoped I’d be just in time for a memorial ceremony but I subsequently found out that no, that had already taken place at 4:45 am! According to friends I made later on in the trip who did get up to see it, the day began with a brief ceremony and then at 5 am (yes you read it right) the pubs opened and everyone , veterans, current soldiers and general public sat and started drinking and eating Anzac biscuits, while the old boys told their stories. On the outset an alien way to commemorate the fallen, rather different in tone to memorial day in Israel or even England for that matter, however the result seems to be the same. We remember the fallen by speaking about their lives and passing their legacy and stories of their bravery and experiences to today’s generation.

Everyone had told me that Cairns was nothing special and to use it just as a base for visiting the surrounding rainforest and reef. Again, despite being the gateway to the Great Barrier Reef, Cairns doesn’t have its own beach – just a pier and mud flats. Both man made, the mudflats were created fifty or so years ago from the beach that USED to be there when it was decided to build a harbour to encourage trade. These mudflats are continually maintained for this purpose but now they’re spending millions of dollars to build a beach/lagoon kind of thing to boost tourism (many a tourist is surprsed by lack of sand and sea). My my, how the environment gets mucked around by that fickle race they call humans!

I stayed in a wonderfully small and cosy hostel recommended by friends which came as a great change to the large conveyor belt hostels I’d stayed in up the East Coast as part of my various trip packages. Called Dreamtime as a reference to the aboriginal creation stories it could have been named after the great sleep I was going to get due to the welcomed absence of bunk beds and noise!

Traditionally the East coast traveler route stops at Cairns but for those in the know, the true delight can be found just a couple of hours north of Cairns in Cape Tribulation and the Daintree National Park. Advised to be the ultimate tranquil setting – beaches amidst the rainforest I set about getting up there for some real R&R over Shabbat.

Starting early Friday morning we traveled past Australia’s most northern set of traffic lights just north of Cairns and then onto an animal sanctuary in Port Douglas. I’m not sure why I’m still going to these animal places as I really don’t like them. Nevermind, this time I learnt the difference between a wallaby and a kanagaroo, about a Dr Doolittlesque creature called the Kasoway, an emu like creature with horn and how to spot a crocodile (basically to be safe become suspicious of any log you see in a river).

We entered the National Park by crossing the Daintree river and from this point no settlements have electrical power – check out the solar powered telephone booth! Viewing the wonderful green forest representing 40,000 years of growth from the Alexander range look out, you can see why the park has been a World Heritage site since 1987. In the area of 2 football pitches you can find 150 different species of trees compared to 180 in the whole of Europe. Later we went on a bushwalk down the Maardja boardwalk where we learnt about the predominant rainforest features including buttress roots, wait a while vines, the evolutionary proving properties of the fern, the success of hepophytes such as the fig tree and the basket ferns, tarzan like swing things that are actually made of cane which later make furniture, the coralysis effect working on vines (ie which way it wraps round is the same direction as water down a plughole) and more. I think I can take in more on these rainforest walks as the atmosphere is so relaxing — standing under the dense and shady canopy of the forest.

BTW do not be misled by the names given to the area such as Cape Tribulation, Mount Misery and Mount Sorrow. These are just egotistical names a la Captain Cook whose boat came a cropper when he crashed into the Great Barrier Reef a couple of hundred years ago. According to that theory the Whitefield exit of the M62 should be named the “Cape of oh bugger I’m facing the wrong way because I was driving too fast in the rain”!

But anyway, by 1pm we were dropped off at our accomodations. Booked in for two nights the Cape Trib Beach House was a wonderful collection of deluxe huts literally within a rainforest, just five minutes walk from an outside bar/ sitting area, pool and then onto the beach. Of course along with the trees came the wildlife and it was not rare to see bush hens or small marsupials roaming around in addition to beautiful large blue butterflies. There were also large spiders sitting peacefully in their cobwebs which I found astoundingly unscary perhaps because it was so clear it was not me they were sitting in wait for!

One stalling factor which was soon overcome was that due to the shops being shut for Anzacs day the day before, I hadn’t managed to buy any food for Shabbat. 4 km away from any shops (and more to a good one) I managed to get a lift to the local general store with Dick who was driving the afternoon horse riders to the stables. A bit of a Crocodile Dundee character, Dick was originally from Victoria but had gone back packing 15 years ago and never gone back (the original campervan is still around apparently). Living in nearby Cow Bay he remembers when all the roads north of the Daintree river were dust roads and there were no traffic lights in Cairns. That was all relatively recently and you still have to travel an hour and a half to get a pizza on a Saturday night!

Shabbat was pure bliss – the room key activated electricity potential crisis was averted when I just left it up to the whim of my roommates who managed to put the air conditioning on so strong that I slept with a sleeping bag and two blankets in the middle of the rain forest! During the day reading and lazing was interrupted by a gentle stroll on the beach to the Cape Trib look out and then some card playing and general shmoozing in the evening with Beth and Billy, students from the US who I’d met on the way up.

Sunday’s pick up wasn’t until 1:00 so I decided to fit some horse riding in as I’d especially gone horse riding in Jerusalem before I went away so I wouldn’t be too rusty if the opportunity arose when away. Not surprisingly these horses were far more patient of nervous riders than their Israeli counterparts and in addition to getting a unique perspective on the area through our 2 hour ride I can now boast being able to get on a horse in one try for the first time ever!

Our trip back to Cairns took us again via the Daintree river, this time stopping for an hour cruise to spot crocs and snakes — only tourists pay to look for things they’re scared of and then to Mossman Gorge a huge boulder ridden rainforest river which was much fun to splash around in.

Which brings us to Monday. Due to drive out to Alice Springs on the Tuesday I decided to spend one more day in rainforest country by going on a one day trip to the Atherton Tablelands, south of Cairns. My choice not to go on a reef trip was probably wise seeing as the weather that day was pretty bad and so I may well have seen the colour of my own vomit rather than the corals! Anyway the trip I did do took me up the steepest bendiest road ever (McGillies highway) to a couple more rainforest walks and crater lake visits — I knew that maybe I’d done enough when I was beginning to be able to answer all the guides questions and then what I really wanted to do – canoeing around Lake Tinaroo. Actually a manmade lake I had great fun with my German boatmate going partly round in circles but partly getting to view the banks for more wildlife. The rain meant it wasnt really worth capsizing as we were drenched anyway so after stopping to paint our faces with red ochre aboriginal style we all returned totally soaked but happy all the same.

So that is all from me — phew. To let you into a little secret, I am actually already in New York (I’m wildlife spotting from a window overlooking Columbus Ave). I hope to get my final Oz account out before I move on again. My body already is confused enough from having started off the week in Alice Springs about 17.5 hours ahead so I don't want to confuse my mind by having to store more facts about a different country for too long.

Staying with the Sydneysiders

Long time no write I know but time is precious and so are Internet costs and connectivity (Yahoo is notoriously bad here sometimes). My last few mails have been written through the night at gracious hosts who have been polite enough not to complain about my nocturnal writing habits. But now alas I have to settle for authentic backpacker Internet spots so I hope my imitable style wont be affected by this change in conditions. BTW I'm actually now in Cairns (and tomorrow I go to Cape Tribulation for Shabbat) having worked my way up the East Coast since my visit to Sydney but details about that will have to come in my next mail!

So for those of you hadn’t noticed, I am feeling more relaxed than ever as I continue to pretend I never have to work again and that travelling is my life. This is especially true since I've now been away long enough so I cant remember everyday routine too well and I've got enough travelling in front of me that I don't have to focus on getting back to it quite yet!

I mention this now as I first experienced a real sense of blessing and gratitude for this new state of mind during my week in Sydney. The city manages to maintain a great holiday, relaxed feeling whilst still being an internationally important city. My preferred mode of touring cities is always to walk around the streets and travel its local transport to really get the vibes, rather than rush in and out of a "must see" checklist of museums and attractions, and Sydney was wonderfully suited to this method.

I am not going to enter into the Melbourne or Sydney debate as I don't want to lose friends however another friend asked me to settle a Cape Town or Sydney dispute and at risk of South African wrath I must say I far prefer Sydney. Then again that could be an unfair comparison as I was a different kind of traveller when I visited Cape Town 8 years ago.

I was very fortunate to have a great base in Sydney staying in the stunning neighbourhood of Vaucluse in Sydney's Eastern suburbs. My hosts were Molly and Alan Joffe, parents of my friend Sharon Berger who made me exceptionally welcome and even had the decency to arrange to have a most wonderful view of Sydney harbour -- bridge AND opera house -- from their balcony. In fact following my more people focused stay in Melbourne I was pretty much flung back into full time tourist mode immediately on my arrival.

The Joffes live just across the road from "The Gap" cliff walk in Watson’s Bay. This consists of beautiful sea and rock views leading down to what was originally a small fishing village. Like many former working class areas in prime locations around the world this is now being bought up and renovated by yuppies. The same goes for inner city terraces in Sydney proving that 21st century Yuppies are to inner-cities what 18th century travellers were to undiscovered lands. Anyway Watson Bay features some stunning houses among the beautiful trees and birds. (I'm amazed by the multicoloured "common-garden" birds here which make Britain’s robin red breasts and blue tits look very monochromic and sillily-named! On my first afternoon we walked through the village and along its very non-commercial beach. Highlights included seeing an expert at sandcastle sculpture at work and a minor local celebrity picnicking with friends - Hugo Weaving (Lord of the Rings and Priscilla, Queen of the Desert to mention a couple of regionally relevant appearances).

We ended at the ferry terminal at Watsons Bay which is the last stop on the ferry service coming out of Circular Quay in the city. (Real name is Semi-Circular Quay for obvious reasons when you visit but shortened because Australians really can't handle too many syllables). The whole week I was in Sydney I travelled around on one travel pass that took me on the bus, ferry or train, all of which go into the city. The train and bus weren't bad at all (I especially liked the huge TV screens on the train platforms) but there was something incredibly idyllic about getting the ferry in and out of the city. I was reminded of that Bacardi advert from the UK a few years back, when the ad is narrated as if its a regular day in London and at the end the guy jumps on a speed boat off some desert island and the narration is "Catching the last bus home". Probably lost a lot on translation but that sums it up for me.

The ferry docks at a number of stops on the way to the city -- Rose Bay (Jewish area - if Bondi is Jewish Home and Away then the ferry stop here reminded me a bit of Dawsons Creek ), Double Bay (also a bit Jewish but chiefly known to be very expensive, hence the nickname "Double Pay") and then before you know it you're in the city centre in half the time as the bus or train.

I got down to seriously exploring Sydney center the next day, arriving by train at Central Station. I chose to walk through to the Harbour by walking myself through the historical sites of the city. As it was about noon when I began, this meant that as well as looking at Sydney's architecture I also got to see corporate Sydney at lunch, most of which enjoyed their break outside in the "Autumnal" climate of Sydney - 20 degrees at least! Interestingly most of historiuc Sydney was designed by an exconvict architect, who was pardoned due to his talents and even appeared on Aussie money until recently. (Someone finally noticed that there was a convicted forgerer on the currency - slightly inappropriate perhaps!)

Memorable sites included the Anzac Memorial and its mirror lake next to it, the great shady trees of Hyde Park, Maquarie Street (named after one of the first governors of Sydney who commissioned most of the buildings along the way with or without permission from the Mother country), and the Queen Victoria Buildings (QVB). I eventually arrived at the Opera House first viewing it from behind through the luscious greens of the Botanical Gardens. Whichever way you approach it, it is quite amazing at first sight. I experienced a bizarre feeling of seeing something very familiar yet awesome and incredible at the same time. No great spiritual connections as experienced when seeing great natural sites or religious places but just an icon of great sites in the world, a symbol of our era...

Interestingly enough the people behind the Opera House's conception would be very happy to hear this comment as that’s basically why it was built. In the 1950s the Govt of Australia wanted to make a postcard view to attract people to come to Oz. There were similar moves made twenty or so years earlier as the harbour bridge was built to encourage people after the depression in 1932. It may seem ironic to mention in a time where Australia is in the news for a very strict Immigration policy, resultant rallies and breakouts at "Detention Centers" for illegal immigrants,but, over the years Australia has launched several assisted immigrant schemes in order to boost its economy with the need to, in the words of those times, "populate or perish". Now of course is not one of those times although if you have enough money and a good trade plus family ties, immigration is still a good and viable option.

Having admired the Opera House from the outside (its interior 70s decor has not aged as gracefully as it exterior and the tour that day was limited as there were rehearsals in the main concert hall) I moved onto a district next to the harbour known as the Rocks. Its significance is not entirely clear when you first visit as now its an upmarket shopping area with nice outside eateries and live music at lunch time but this was the first part of Sydney to be settled. It’s called the Rocks due to the nature of the terrain as first sighted by Sydney’s first settlers. You can see these big vertical slabs in a small section of the district positioned slightly above street level. I read up about their history by following a small walkway above these known as Bunker Hill. BTW all information plaques in Oz seem to have been unveiled by an MP. I'm not one to interfere but there are ALOT of plaques, surely they could be doing better things with their time....?

On the whole my over-priced adventure travelling urge was covered by New Zealand but there was one thing I'd decided I was willing to pay through the nose for to do and that was the Sydney Harbour Bridge climb. A totally corporately designed venture -- breathalyser tests at the beginning, another "if i die i wont sue" form to sign, group get to know yous, groovy climbing suits and safety harnesses, walky talky radios -- it was a very cool way to get a view (verbal and physical) of Sydney. Three hours all in all I really enjoyed myself and would recommend it to anyone who likes to see things from the top and getting potted histories of a city but cant cope with one more monotonous cruise/ferry commentary. Of course my most impressive achievement while standing above Sydney and all its glory was discovering that one of the crew went to JFS (my old school) and finding out that of course we knew people in common. Guess some things never change.

Talking of Jews I did visit the infamous Bondi Beach a couple of times although admittedly not for a great amount of time. We had supper at fa airly typical "run-by-an-Israeli-chutz-laaretz-deli-cum-restaurant". As is well known about Bondi you can hear lots of Hebrew and the great Israeli presence means as well as lots of kosher restaurants there are several treif Israeli ones too. The beach itself seems pretty enough (many complain that its too commercialised) but I don’t think I had proper chance to take it all in so I have decided to decided to spend my last night there (wedged between Alice Springs and New York) to give it a real chance. I also want to do the Bronte beach walk which I have been recommended which I think sounds like a nice way to spend my last morning in the Southern Hemisphere.

The only other time I got to Bondi was on Shabbat. I stayed in Rose Bay with Marion and Alan Spiro - parents of my friend Dani Wassner but walked over on Shabbat to the Or Chadash shul in Bondi. Shabbat was a good one for the "Who do you know game". On Friday night, Dani's sister brought a friend whose sister was married to the brother of a friend of Dani's (Deb Galasko) who Marion knows, plus on Shabbat I met a woman Leonie Hardy, who knew my host-to-be-in-New-York Abby Carmel*. Coincidentally Leonie worked in Terem when she was in Israel so I was able to tell the "Fell on head while dancing" story which pertains both to Terem and Abby but now I REALLY digress!!! (* I hope that the host offer is still on following that mention...)

So where were we? Jews... ah yes, so, so far no-one has been able to an accurate figure for the size of the Jewish communities in Melbourne and Sydney (estimates varied from 80,000 and 20,000 respectively to 40,000 each). That aside it is generally agreed that despite Melbourne being the more observant community, Sydney's Jewish Museum (there's one in both) is superior. I chose to see for myself partly out of general interest but mostly because I was to be in Sydney for Yom Hashoah and wanted to do something appropriate on the day. It was a good thing that that was my intention because there's disappointingly little about the history of the Sydney's Jewish community included within the exhibits and the majority of the museum dedicated to the Holocaust. I did learn a bit though, particularly about the six phases of Jewish migration to Australia. This began with the Convict Era 220 years ago; through the Gold Rush era of the mid 19th century; Eastern European migration from the turn of the century; Pre-holocaust refugees in the 1930s; Post WWII refugees who managed to get in despite the Australian Government’s initially anti-Semitic immigration policy; and finally the most recent influx since 1967 from South Africa and Russia. It almost reflects the aliyot to Israel and it would seem from a discussion I had with my Shabbat hosts that Sydney Jewry has displayed attitudes to these new influxes similar to Israelis . Today no-one blinks while saying anything about how "those South Africans" do things. Back a generation Marion remembered feeling strange that her parents were not survivors as all her classmates parents were were and noted that her parents generation were not as welcoming as one would have thought to the refugees after the war.

But my purpose was to see the Holocaust exhibit and it was quite impressive. Designed for those who no little about the period I didn’t expect to learn any new facts myself. However a key element of the museum is to be guided through by a survivor who annotates the exhibits with his or her own personal story. (This presents educational difficulties for years to come which the museum is addressing. I'll be interested to see how this works out) I missed the tour but just sitting and watching personal accounts on TVs positioned around the museum did a lot to bring me past the statistics and through to the human, personal side. I then managed to sit down with Eva, a Rumanian survivor of Auschwitz who told me her story one on one.

Now I know I agreed not to mention it too much in my e-mails, but it goes without saying that the current situation in Israel has never been far from my mind. Without other sundry matters such as work and normal life to bug me I have had moments when I've had time to think and question whether I could be doing more, should be doing/ feeling something else etc. My visit the previous day to the Anzac Memorial had already affected me and triggered off thoughts. The main focus of the memorial is a sculpture of a fallen soldier supported by his mother, wife and sister, designed to show that even those who do not literally sacrifice their lives still bear the burden of war. The memorial to me seemed very appropriate but it made me think how it is relatively easy to be poignant and defined in our reactions when we are talking about conflicts and wars finished and in the past, but how do these memorials help us face challenges today? I’m not sure I’m expressing myself correctly but I guess I feel that these memorials don’t offer me adequate practical lessons for today. Perhaps I'm asking too much and its an unreasonable thing to expect but it almost hurts to look at a memorial that was built with a hope that this war will be the last when clearly it isn’t. Maybe I should recognise that I was just feeling sadness and frustration that will ultimately never be resolved but will pass at some point albeit temporarily?

So there I was listening to Eva's story and just when I thought I could lose myself in that "that was 50 years ago not now" feeling, Eva asked me where I was from. I explained Israel and why I'd come to the museum and she started to cry. She had just related her story which ended with her escaping from one of the work marches out of Auschwitz with a cousin and friend. So why was she crying now? Well apparently the same friend who had escaped the camps with her had been related to the family who had been killed in the Netanya Pesach bombing. She said she felt a great connection to Israel and visited a lot but she had cancelled her trip for her grand nephew's bar-mitzva because of the situation and that it all saddened her too much. Again I don’t know exactly that has to offer but I felt it was not serendipity that led me to meet Eva that day.

On a brighter note, that evening I met up with my Canadian friends Jill and Karen who I'd met in New Zealand. I didn’t really know people my age in Sydney and as I wasn’t hostelling it I had little opportunity to meet any. Thus it was nice to meet up with them and hear what they had been upto. We went over to Darling Harbour, another over-priced but pretty area of Sydney to the left of the harbour. We went over by monorail which we got for free cos as we were deliberating whether to get on or not the driver pointed out it was the last one so we should just get on! We also posed next to a couple of the colourful cows that can now be sighted all over Sydney city centre. Apparently this is a world bovine tour and these cows are not unique to Sydney (they were in London just recently it seems) but we had fun anyway!

Once one has toured around Sydney city center for a couple of days its nice to take a ferry trip out to one of the other sites around the harbour. This visit has more or less confirmed it for me that when it comes to animals (and as a consequence zoos) I can take 'em or leave 'em, preferably the latter. (This reaction could be latent agression following the infamous "London-Zoo-goat-ate-my-chocolate-and-crisps-fiasco" of 1976 but this remains scientifically unproven). This given, it meant it wasn’t a difficult decision for me to opt to visit the Sydney suburb of Manly instead of Tooronga Zoo.

Manly is famous for its beautiful beaches (ocean AND harbour beaches, noch) and its scenic walkway which follows the harbour shore inland from Manly Cove all the way back to Spit Bridge on Middle Harbour (about a 3 hour walk). Manly is so named because when Captain Arthur Philip discovered the area he noticed how the Aborigines of the region were rather well built and manly! This interested me so much that I actually considered trying to find out how I could have the suburb twinned with Jerusalem for ironic reasons ... just kidding guys! Anyway all I can say that because Manly had such womanly targeted great sales I didn’t get on with the walkway until about 3pm so I missed the sunset I'd wanted to get back to the Harbour Bridge for – nevermind! The walkway was a fresh change from shopping and was slightly reminiscent of the Abel Tasman Track (in a kind of Junior beginners training kind of way) as the walk was through forests overlooking secluded beaches. I'd recommend it and thanks to Rachel H, former North Shore Sydney-sider for recommending it to me. (It should be noted that between Rachel and Dani Wassner my Rough guide was mere commentary to a wonderful Sydney itinery that they set out for me before I left - ta!)

One side observation. Sydney on the whole is very relaxed except for the drivers. This may seem strange but I think I can understand their road rage. For some unknown reason the traffic lights (of which there are many) have the timing of a grandfather clock one pendulum short. There's always ages where no one seems to have right of way. This frustration is shared by the pedestrians who not only inevitably end up jaywalking a ton but also have to put up with strains of Atari Space Invader like beeps everytime they actually can cross. Absolutely unconnected to anything I just thought this was a useful word of warning for those of you planning to visit.

Uptil now most of my touring in Sydney was pretty local however I did take myself out of Sydney for one day and that was to visit the Blue Mountain, a trip highly recommended by all

The Blue Mountains are so named as they actually look blue due to the blue haze emitted by the eucalyptus trees (eucalyptus = gum btw -- this I find out rather belatedly!). Aussie's are rather into their eucalyptus oil. Every guide seems to come with a new use - to clear your sinuses (aka olbas oil), to remove red wine stains, to suffocate fleas for dogs, an effective wool wash... the list goes on.

The mountains are part of the Great Dividing Range which runs along the East Coast (? I think!) of Australia. Basically all mountains in Australia have the same appearance but this particular bunch got the name, as they were the first mountains to be discovered when Sydney was established. They are a pretty impressive set of mountains. Impressive that is to all except to New Zealanders who often refer to them as the Blue Hills!)

But before we got to the Blue Mountains we had one stop just 20mins outside the city -- of a more manmade nature -- the Olympic Village. Huge and spacious this site has become somewhat of a white elephant. Stadia have been altered so they can be used for rugby matches and the Olympic "fast" swimming pool (water flows over the side and there are square dividers between lanes) is open for public use, but the place is so huge it just cant be used to its full capacity. To add insult to injury, unlike the sports crazy Melbournians, Sydney-siders just aren’t into sport. (Surfing isn’t a sport its a way of life).

That said the site was very impressive and as our guide told us these were the "Green Olympics". For example the site used solar panels for electricity, recycled water in the loos and public transport was heavily encouraged (there's not one car park in the place) just to mention a few "green" moves.

Apparently these Olympics also managed to make a profit 9although one wonders iff that will remain true over time) and the Greeks are now desperately trying to get Australian help to get them out of pending disaster for the 2004 games. The city shut down when the Olympics were on and whole road systems were built and modified especially for the event (including the Madonna bra like Anzac bridge). I particularly liked the way that they used school buses from all over the country to ferry people around. What comes with local school buses? -- Local school drivers of course! After a day of thousand of drivers getting lost around Sydney the organisers appealed to public for volunteers to sit along side each driver and show them the way!

So back to the Blue Mountains. You probably all heard about the recent bush fires (around last Christmas). Well they happened in this area, very near to Sydney, infact the nearest one came within 14km of Sydney Harbour Bridge.

The first of our bush walks of the day (bush walk definition = taking a walk where there is no defined path0 was near the same town of Glen brook which was deeply affected by the fire. At one point there were 2 fire trucks for every house in the town and 30 of 90 house were burnt down. We could see signs of how bad it got such as telegraph poles, treated not to burn if cars crash into them, totally burnt and in ruins plus trees with black bark and furry leaves. The trees didn’t totally burn down a la the trees in the Jerusalem forest in 1995 but rather developed a furry coating as a result of their natural emergency mode kicking into gear. Basically the Eucalyptus "wonder" oil causes the tree to go into "freak out" mode where endodermic seeds burst out making the leaves close to the trunk.

It is believed that the fires were partly started by natural causes such as lightening (there hadn’t been any rain for up to a month before which made them more vulnerable) and partly by arsonists (mostly youths who couldn’t even be punished through the law). It was a mammoth operation getting the fires out and it was interesting to hear about it from our driver as he was directly involved. His next door neighbours house was burnt right down. He was slightly luckier – his house wasn’t burnt down but having evacuated the house it was flooded by the two weeks of floods that the area received immediately afterwards. Fire trucks and staff were brought in from all over the country -- even fireman from New Zealand. I was surprised to hear how little government compensation they received. The Bush fire brigade is a voluntary service so many of the men lost out on wages as they just couldn’t go into work. Many of the houses were underinsured and evacuation procedures had to be done so quickly that residents often grabbed for sentimental items first seeking refuge in the local pub where many residents celebrated Christmas together. In general there was a very communal feeling, people with pools marked their post boxes with pink ribbons so the firemen knew where to come and get more water. To make up for lost wages and insurance a telethon was held raising over 2 million dollars for victims of the disaster. There was some looting so police patrolled the areas together with locals checking the cars of those non-residents for Christmas presents taken from the houses.

This lack of government intervention, Prime Minister John Howard had appealed to employers to pay employees who were volunteering for the fire brigade made me appreciate the welfare state environment that I am very used to – both in UK and Israel. This made me read up about the political culture in Australia and it didn’t surprise me to find out that there has never really been any socialist tradition here.

Our second bush walk was over the stunning Wentworth falls and by Jannson valley (think I’ve got that right). Whatever this was the first view to really amaze me since New Zealand. This wonderfully deep green valley is older than the Grand Canyon, a result of erosion from the Ice Age. The Blue Mountains are a world heritage site, which should mean they are protected yet they still mine coal there – bit strange. Similarly other Australian world heritage sites include Kakadu National park – where you can mine for uranium and the Great Barrier Reef where there have been oil spillages of late….

Our last bush walk took us right down into the rain forest to see the famous Three Sisters which are 3 huge rocks/mountain things (ok I’m getting tired now). The highlight was right at the bottom you get on a scenic railway with the steepest gradient in the world (50 degrees I believe). Sensation and view was amazing – perfect end to a beautiful and informative day.

So that was my Sydney experience bar the stuff that I must have forgotten. I left Sydney for Byron Bay Saturday nigh 13th April (first of 3 overnight 12-hour trips). Since then the time has been whizzing but I can say that I’m happy to be back on the backpacker trail again.

Matza in Melbourne

Well I hope that the title of this e-mail didn’t put too many people off from opening it. Being in that post-pesach state of “even-see-matza-I’ll-vomit” myself I appreciate that this could happen. This aforementioned fragile condition wasn’t helped this morning when I got on the flight from Melbourne to Sydney to be served a Pesach snack complete with chocolate coconut craparoons! Never mind! I’m in Sydney now, have just been out to eat pies in Bondai Beach and I can see the Harbor bridge AND the Opera House from where I’m staying. All is good!

But back to Melbourne!

If you remember from my last installment, I arrived in Melbourne erev Pesach with a severe case of sleep deprivation. My friend Becky picked me up from the airport, (most appreciated particularly in my zombie state) and dropped me off at my friend Adina Rathner’s house where I spent the first 3 days of Chag. The Rathners were very welcoming and tolerant – in particular when I went up for a small nap during the Seder meal only to return several hours later to find them just finishing clearing up! No, there were no hand actions and funny noises to “Chad gad ya” for me this year (and Adina’s 95 year old uncle sung it in Yiddish as well!) Although I wasn’t keeping second day I went to Adina’s sister at half time to catch supper and possibly second half of Seder to make up for the night before but alas this was not to be as fatigue got the better of me again…. Ho hum – next year…

For those of you who may be currently (understandably) going through a crisis about living in Israel please allow me to point out at least one good reason for sticking things out… transglobal friends! Melbourne was a really surreal experience in as far as I’d never been there before yet I knew so many people – both those who I’d planned to see and those I just bumped into (mostly outside Mizrachi shul – legendary among the “Bnei” people I know from Israel). The former made up a group of about 15 friends in various states of transition between Israel and Melbourne - be it holiday/ shlichut/ permanent return/ on route to other destinations. Good to see them anytime of the year but particularly great to catch up over Pesach because what else is there to do over Yomtov?

Overall I did like Melbourne. It was cosmopolitan, had a funky scene, a good nightlife, green leafy suburbs, accessible out of town trips, good (if varied) weather, sea and views - what more could you ask for? I’m not sure, perhaps I’m just not a big city fan (you’ve seen one botanical garden/skyscraper/arts complex you’ve seen ‘em all) but it definitely wasn’t THE highlight of my trip. Then again a city that has a good vibe to live in may not make the best city to holiday in and vice versa. Also its juxtaposition to New Zealand in my itinerary may have put it at a disadvantage as New Zealand was just so outstanding and I had such a good time that the following destinations were bound to suffer in comparison. Realizing that I cant be the only one to feel this way makes me wonder how people travel the world in a year or even less and really appreciate everything they see and experience.

I tried to minimize the comparison by having a different type of visit. Well firstly I was in a city whereas New Zealand I limited my city stays to a very minimum. Then, staying with friends and not in backpacker hostels made a big change, and not just for obvious differences in comfort level. Its totally different seeing a place from the eyes of people who are working and living there (particularly in an ethnic community as our own), as opposed to when you’re almost solely in the company of backpackers and tourist industry professionals. I think both give you insights but of different varieties. I’ll be quite happy to get back to the less down to earth traveler insights, as I think that’s what taking a trip is about, but it was good to have a break all the same.

Friday, aka second day Yom Tov for suckers, I went on a whistle stop tour of downtown Melbourne with my friends Ilana and Ahron. This exclusive outing covered: the recently rejuvenated trendy area of St Kilda; Ackland St (home of the historical European cake shops); St Kilda’s pier (well the land end at least); the Crown Casino (open 24hours, 365 days a year, floors of pokies and card table – common cause of family tzurus and in particular a current court case in the Melbourne Jewish community of a man who embezzled much clients money whilst telling his wife he was at work where the phone lines weren’t working); Southgate (no not a north London suburb but rather a snazzy newly built urban promenade on the bank of the Yarra river ); the Victoria Art Museum complex (is that the Eiffel tower on your roof or are you just happy to see me?) Flinders St station (meet you under the clocks) and then finally home via Chapel St – popular local shopping and entertainment area often to be classified as FOJ (full of Jews). A nice day all round with the added bonus of a demonstration of Melbourne’s weather being four seasons in one day. As they say, in Melbourne if you want to see what the weather is like – wait a minute!

Anyway… so what’s next? Well what do you know - Shabbat again, and this time round to my friend Rochelle Harding (nee Goldberg) parents’ house for Lunch.

What has been very interesting for me here in Melbourne has been meeting and hearing about my friends families because the community is so different from England. Whereas 3 out of 4 of my grandparents were born in England, most of my friends parents weren’t even born in Australia. Hearing about Hungarian and Polish rivalries (we’re peasants a proud!), European accents, stories of kindertransport and relative reunions years later on, successful businessmen today who only learnt English aged 17 - all these are stories of past generations for me but they are very much present here as the community is essentially a post-war community. I felt like an assimilated Jew when Adina’s mother tried to explain to me the food she was making for breakfast and I don’t know any of the Yiddush terms. What was even more interesting I think is the affect of this generation difference has on the most random things. For example everyone was telling me how big Melbourne was but I couldn’t get it and then I realized why - I wasn’t used to the Jewish suburbs/ghetto being so near the city centre. Then I realized that the Jews just haven’t had chance to move out to the outer suburbs yet ala along the tube lines in London or out towards Whitefield or Cheadle in Manchester.

I think the difference in generation and the space available really made the difference between here and the Jewish communities I know. It really strikes you when visiting Caulfield and East St Kilda - the Melbourne Jewish Ghetto - just how beautiful and un-ghetto like the streets and houses look.(PPA in Golders Green is a slum compared) Personally I was gob smacked, coming from London and Israel, both places of cramped housing. Walking around the area I found the whole atmosphere far too relaxed to be all-Jewish! Houses that would look quite at home in Herzilya or Hampstead seem relatively commonplace here. I couldn’t get over how many public buildings and James Bond hideouts one street could have! A bit too much for me but if this lifestyle is really affordable can you really blame the community for getting comfortable. After the recent suffering that just the last generations have been through its pretty clear that they plan to stay here for a while. Lets hope that the Melbourne community can maintain its vibrancy and diversity to support this stay. Funnily enough the Melbourne community is still very Zionistic and I saw many more kippot srugot than expected but as my friend and social commentator Jane Jacobs said, these people are arm chair Zionists sitting very firmly in their armchairs. But again I find it hard to blame them

Sunday was an easy day. Moved over to Becky’s flat (a really nice place in East St Kilda) and then shopping and comedy – a winning combination by me! The former was done in Chatstone (puts Brent Cross to shame in prices and size) and Queen Victoria Market (tacky souvenirs and cheap clothes) The latter was the Crème of Irish – 3 Irish comedians, pretty funny (I liked the line about 10 green bottles – perhaps by the time you get to the 5th green bottle accidentally falling you might begin to suspect foul play) although their level didn’t seem so far off from what I can do (on a good night!) so that got me thinking again…. Not sure what about but thinking all the same!

On Monday I took a trip to the Great Ocean Road. This is a must for a visitor to Melbourne / Victoria in anyone’s books. It’s a grand scenic route running along the Victoria coastline, which was built between 1916 and 1932 in memory of WWI martyrs by WWI veterans, literally with pick and shovel. The aim was to create work for those returning from war as well as to be a memorial. It is a very beautiful route that you can take several days going down, staying overnight at any of the resorts on the way. This wasn’t happening for me so I decided to day trip it instead. I was warned about doing this in one day as it is basically a 5 hour drive one way to get to the major sites making it a 13/14 hour day trip all in but following Yomtov and Shabbat this didn’t faze me, especially as I didn’t have to drive. The weather was great and I enjoyed all our stops on the way at various points of interest. I also enjoyed discovering Victoria’s Gold 104, cheesy 60s to 80s hits all the way – fantastic - just what you need for a good road trip!

Our first stop was to spot wild Eastern gray kangaroos roaming freely on Anglesey golf course. I found the phenomenon of golfers (not traditionally a particularly tolerant and inclusive breed) willing to put up with kangaroos actually more amazing than the animals themselves. Next stop Lorne a local fishing spot and popular resort, followed by “Teddy’s look out” to do exactly that (the lookout point is so-called because the area used to be populated by many koalas however since a bush fire, I think in 1983 known as Ash Wednesday although I could have my dates confused, they are no longer – no habitat no koalas said Fred). Anyway at this point I was still in mode of nothing compares to New Zealand but this view was still quite stunning and it was here that knowing that I hadn’t seen coast lines and windy roads like this in New Zealand I realized that it actually reminded me of Chapman’s Peak Drive in Capetown which is not an uncomplimentary comparison. Our stop for lunch (explaining matza sandwiches to “Wade” our actually Kiwi part Maori driver was made slightly easier by the fact he’d spent 8 months in Israel and loved it) was preceded by a drive up through a Eucalyptus forest to spot koalas. Did u know that koalas sleep 19 hours a day and can only feed of 2 out of 800 species of eucalyptus? Well now you do… Did you also know that Mother Nature is Queen camouflage hence finding koalas in Eucalyptus trees makes “Where’s wally/waldo?”,(delete as appropriate for cultural accuracy) a breeze? Post lunch onto a drop off stop at Apollo Bay, then to do a short rainforest walk (15mins, huge trees, pretty cool – the whole coast line used to be rainforests until the white man came and yelled the first immortal “timber!” last century) and finally we headed on for the true highlights of the trip – sets of great rock formations, one the site of a famous shipwreck whose name totally escapes me and the other the 12 apostles – huge rock like cliffs standing independently on the shores of the ocean (cant quite count 12 but impressive all the same).

Next day’s trip was less about natural phenomenon and more about man’s (yes I do mean man – I shall always refer to the white MAN when talking about ruining countries!) reaction to one. In Sovereign Hill, Ballarat about an hour and a half outside Melbourne there is a mock mining town on the site of what was a real mining town during the Gold Rush, which began in 1851. (Well technically Ballarat McDOnalds is on the site of the original mine but we’ll ignore that for the romantics amongst you) On the way, almost by accident we passed Ballarat shul which was consecrated in 1860. It kind of makes sense that out of the people that flocked in to make a quick cent out of the gold rush that there would be a fair number of Jews. (The museum at Sovereign Hill actually gave a breakdown of nationalities of immigrants at the time, the majority coming from the British Isles. An interesting indication of the long distances involved was given by the numbers whose nationality was counted as “born at sea”!)

Sovereign hill is a great place to take kids – as there are oads of activities all within the set up of a mock township. I was there with Ilana, Ahron and Ilana’s nine year old brother Ezra who enjoyed the mine tour (with real water and ladders) and dressing up as a soldier on parade. A lot of effort has been made to give the feel of the place – all staff were dressed in period dress which put my Tower of David Queen Miriam to shame.

I enjoyed a candle-making demonstration, which was the unlikely setting for my first discussion related to the indigenous Aboriginal people which had an even more unlikely segway. The guide (in shopkeeper dress) was explaining how candles were made – the differences between those made from tallow (which is animal based) and paraffin. He pointed out how many rather dangerous ingredients have been in candles over the years including arsenic and lead oxide and that how candles, soap and chocolate actually had quite similar components (living as I was on pesach food I was familiar with that concept). Somebody made a comment about the candle factory being next to the funeral parlour and the guide in character gave a kind of joking throwaway line about when they ran out of tallow (which is made out of animal fat) that was always an option. There was a bit of a hush in the rom and the guide coming to the end of his official speech went on to tell an anecdote about how he made that comment before in the presence of some German tourists who had pointed out that that what was done by the Nazis in WWII and meanwhile at the back there was a Jewish couple (by description obviously Haredi) and that how they had not looked very comfortable at this exchange. This line of discussion somehow lead the guide to talk about information that wasn’t mentioned around the museum. Apparently at the time of the Gold Rush there was a 40th regiment of the army notorious for getting rid of “unwanted” peoples. They played a key role in aborigine massacres and were shipped abroad to help fight others such as the Maori in New Zealand and so on. In the model township they have soldiers in this uniform parade and the guide said that not surprisingly they don’t bring up this rather unsightly part of their history as its not seen to be part of the history of the gold mine but how he felt very conscious of it while wearing the costume in front of Aboriginal visitors.

Just recently the museum have introduced an Aborigine educator to start kids programs but up until now no Aborigine history was mentioned at Sovereign Hill at all. One thing they had learnt already from this educator was that some of the local names did not mean what they had thought. For example near by Wynderee was thought to mean “Near by water” because it was near a lake. In fact it would transpire to mean “Go Away” which was what the Aborigines were trying to say to the European invaders.

Interesting where candles for the gold mine can lead you hey?

Wednesday, brought last day Yomtov for me, and a chance to catch up with friend and former boss Jo Friedman, hubby Andye and kids. Now taking out Yomtov Israeli style is a little difficult because you can’t actually eat chametz or at least not what you’ve sold or any bread. This did not prevent me from using my time well however. One thing I had been recommended to do while visiting Melbourne was to go to the Gold Class cinema. This a cinema which seats maximum 20 people and everyone gets an easy Joe armchair (or whatever they’re called). In addition to this sheer luxury you can order food or drink from the bar and have it served to you at different times of the film so for example – I’ll have an orange juice after half an hour, M&Ms after an hour and a coffee after 2 hours. Total unadulterated pampering but hey I’m worth it! The film I chose to see was “A Beautiful Mind” which I did enjoy even though I understood the criticisms it received. What I particularly was impressed with – spoiler coming now – skip to next paragraph if necessary – was how they portrayed the voices he heard. It was very clear that these never go away but somehow (inadequately portrayed by the film admittedly) one can over come and choose not to bend to their powers. I found this very powerful as I think we all have our demons, temptations, weaknesses we just have a choice whether to surrender to them or one day at a time seek the strength to overcome.

My last trip in Melbourne, on Thursday was one I wanted to do but even I didn’t I would really have had little choice. Philip Island is famous for its penguin parade where you can watch the penguins come out of the sea and waddle into shore to rest for the night. For those of you who don’t know, my sister Debbie has a huge penguin fetish (no I have NO idea why) so basically I went on a great penguin pilgrimage in her name! The parade only happens 6:45ish in the evening (thank goodness the clocks went back otherwise would have been there even later!) so the trip, leaving Melbourne at 12:00 stopped off on several places on the way. These included some kind of Wildlife Wonderland, which was so tacky although we did get to see a wombat (called Forest Grunt) and feed more kangaroos. It was set out very gloomily with peepholes to look at the wombats in every point when they weren’t being put in a yard next to roosters!. There was a sign saying that they don’t breed well in captivity. Not bloody surprising with people peering in all the time (they’re nocturnal animals) and roosters next door. To be fair the Center do good work as they take orphans whose mothers are killed by cars and release them back to the wild when they’re big enough to cope but the place was grim. Maybe it was the giant worm collection that put me off or the pickled white shark (Damien Hirst eat your sheep’s heart out) but I’m just finding that tourist stops here are just that bit more common than New Zealand’s were. Am I biased or a snob or both? Don’t know but Aileen who I’d got chatting to on the bus (from New Forest – manages properties for Jewish retirees in Bournemouth and actually likes them) agreed. I think it was the wonderful car signs they were selling that really raised the tone (“go bra-less and get rid of your wrinkles” was a particular favourite). Also went to a koala sanctuary where they were slightly easier to spot but still no chance to hold one.

As your mother often said when in the car – look outside and be observant. Well it’s definitely worth doing that in Australia as they have some hysterical road signs that you don’t want to miss. Here are three of my current favourites.

1) “Wrong Way – Go Back”.
Slightly paternalistic, even more banale, this seems to be found positioned facing traffic coming in the opposite direction. Surely you could stretch the argument and have that on every road???

2) “Caution Cemetery Ahead”
Coloured the same as the “caution koalas” or “caution kangaroos” signs one wonders what they expect – cadavers ala Michael Jackson Thriller walking across the highway?

3) Keep Out – You may step on a penguin
Cute and to the point but I just liked the imagery!

Well back to penguins and final stop before the penguin parade was at the Nobbies. Yes I know only the Australians could have a place named the Nobbies but this was actually one of the most impressive sites I’ve seen so far. You’ve seen the opening scene to Grease – Olivia Newton John saying goodbye to John Travolta with “Love is a many splendoured thing” playing. Well the waves crashing against these huge rocks, which is what the Nobbies are, were just outstanding. The sea was just white foam for ages and the water showered up so high every time the waves crashed down. Also as you’re not allowed to take photos at the parade, this was our chance to see if we could catch a shot of penguins already inland. At this time of year the penguins eat a tonne so they can come in land for 17 days to shed their feathers. We managed to sport several just going into their holes to moult. Those we didn’t spot gave themselves away through rather big grepses for such small creatures.

I think watching the penguins come in during the parade was the nearest I’d come to cheering on a marathon. As the sun is setting one penguin will emerge from the shore as a kind of scout comes out (theme of Exodus would be a good soundtrack for this) and then about 10 mins later a whole troop of penguins suddenly swim in. (Not sure if it’s a troop or a school of penguins. Somebody suggested a packet perhaps?). Once they’re on the shore they waddle along all going in their own way and own speed branching off to their own places for the night. We waited for a second group and then we walked up with them (behind rails of course) By the end you’re accompanying maybe a group of 4-5 as the others have gone their own way and you feel you want to cheer them on. I was already with the orange quarters and the Mars foil capes for the end! It was all extra cute because these penguins were a certain type of penguin called the little penguin… for a reason! Barely a foot tall I was almost tempted to take one!

My last proper day in Melbourne was spent doing odds and ends in town, sorting out forward travel and trps. Was quite proud of myself as I finally worked out how to pay for the trams and make my way into town. (Everybody says its easy because Melbourne is like New York, its on a grid. Well that’s all fine and dandy but New York has NUMBERED streets, duh!) I got my photos back from New Zealand, which are great but really made me appreciate the importance of writing down things as they happen as my memories become so dependent on pictures. There’s always the occasion where you couldn’t take a camera or sometime the picture just doesn’t capture it all. This was a good lesson to realize during my trip.

Coming from Israel I am used to ex-pat memorabilia and one thing I’ve noticed is that the persons birthplace is often well represented in the art they display. If one is from Wellington you may have a watercolour of the harbour and bay. If you are from Capetown you will definitely have a picture (one at least!) of Table Mountain. But if you are from Melbourne if you have anything you will probably have a large framed painting of the most sacred landmark from your hometown… the MCG! (Melbourne Cricket Ground, where ironically they play most of the Aussie rules football - Melbourne is the heart of Aussie Rules at the sport started here in the 1850’s.)

As my last tourist spot I had a toss up between the MCG and the Immigration museum. Not quite sure how it reflects on me but I went for the MCG. Of course somebody somewhere didn’t want me to go because as I got there at 2:30 I found that the 3:00 tour (that’s what’s worth going to) had been cancelled due of the game that evening. I went into the Olympic museum and the Cricket Hall of Fame but it just wasn’t the same. Sorry Dad, I tried… I even went to the Aussie rules exhibit but it gave no explanation as to why they wear such funny looking vest tops and tight shorts to play in….

This leads me to Shabbat where I finally spent some quality time with Becky who also entertained Shabbat lunch. Sat night I went to the cinema and saw Monsters Ball - a real pick me up film – not! This one the academy can keep. And that leads me to today. I’m Vaucluse in Sydney where I’ll be till next Saturday night.

Love again to all of you. Of course I didn’t mention how hearing about the situation has hardly been pleasant not to mention the irony of me calling my parents in Netanya to check they were ok. Thinking about you all as ever and I AM coming back and I think its that fact alone that’s allowing me to have this incredible break

As always
As ever