Category Archives: Australia

We will remember them…

Copyright: Louise RalphThey shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.  
Laurence Binyon (1914)

We recently took an impromptu trip to Canberra, Australia’s capital city. While most other major Australian cities evolved higgledy-piggledy around ports, Canberra is a city by design.

Once endless paddocks, it was planned and designed by Walter Burley Griffin in collaboration with his wife Marion Mahony Griffin, also an architect.

One of Canberra’s drawcards is the fabulous wineries a short drive out of the city. But our first stop is the Australian War Memorial.

We will remember them…

During World War I, 60,000 Australian soldiers died. They were all volunteers. In a population of just four million, it was a war that touched every family and every town – and changed Australia forever.

What isn’t as well known is that, in the decade that followed, another 60,000 returned soldiers died from war-related illness, injury and post-traumatic stress.

Every year, at the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month all over Australia – on streets, in shopping centres, at businesses and schools, at train stations and airports – an eerie silence descends as we all stop where we are for one minute.

EB and I are sitting on Cabarita beach today and EB finds the Last Post on his phone. The haunting tones mingle with the crashing waves and the call of a lone seagull gliding past…

After our visit to the Australian War Memorial, the faces are fresh in our minds… of those who served and died in that terrible ‘war to end all wars’ and in all conflicts and peacekeeping operations since then.

It’s 95 years since the armistice on 11 November that ended the First World War (1914-18). It is also the 20th anniversary of the reinternment of the Unknown Australian Soldier in the Australian War Memorial’s Hall of Memory.

Today his eulogy, first delivered by Prime Minister Paul Keating in 1993, will be read at the setting of the sun outside the Memorial.

“It is not too much to hope…that this Unknown Australian Soldier might continue to serve his country – he might enshrine a nation’s love of peace and remind us that in the sacrifice of the men and women whose names are recorded here there is faith enough for all of us.”

When you consider the lives lost in war – those who fight in it and those who are caught up in it just because they live there – it makes you wonder about the madness of the human species…

So perhaps the last words should go to Confucius: “Study the past if you would define the future.”


Shearwaters blown away on epic migratory journey

Copyright: Louise Ralph

As we walk along Pottsville beach, it’s shocking to see the pristine sand dotted with dead seabirds. Already the wind has swept a soft layer of sand across their emaciated bodies…

Other beachgoers are curious but keeping their distance. What are they? Have they been poisoned? Is it the dreaded bird flu that’s killed them?

Copyright: Louise RalphI know it’s common for migratory birds to be blown off course or die of exhaustion, but I’ve never seen so many littering the beach. It just feels wrong to see such intense effort end like this.

A closer look reveals these are short-tailed shearwaters, similar or possibly the same as those we saw on a recent trip to Bruny Island in Tasmania.

Every year, these valiant world travellers make marathon migratory journeys from Alaska, Siberia and other distant shores to breed from September to April in colonies along Australia’s southeast coastline.

Along the way, shearwaters ‘raft-up’ at sea to rest and feast on fish and other tasty seafood like krill, squid, plankton, crustaceans and molluscs. But keeping up the carbs for their epic journey is a feat in itself.

By the time they reach Australia’s east coast, often flying in 6,000 kilometre stages, they have lost up to half their body weight and are in need of some serious rest and rejuvenation.

Imagine an 80kg human running 16 million kilometres non-stop, and you have some idea of the distance these birds have travelled compared to their body weight.

Like all migratory creatures, they are driven to continue their journey. And every year, emaciated and too exhausted to feed or take flight again, many are washed up along our beaches.

This year, the start of spring may as well have been the beginning of summer here, with unseasonal hot, dry winds fanning sparks into wildfires in eastern Australia. The shearwaters would have hit those relentless hot winds head on…

It’s sad to see their bodies strewn along the beach. But it’s comforting to know that many of them have already reached their destination and are taking some well-earned R&R before they kick into some serious breeding and baby shearwater rearing…

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Shearwaters near Bruny Island in Tasmania


Fresh eggs, curious cows and free range kids

My writerly co-conspirator Sandra recently took a short break with her husband and two kids aged nine and 12. For something a bit different, they headed to the country instead of the coast…

Taking a break is often harder work than staying home. You want to see this, do that, go there. For our recent four day break we wanted just that – a break. But how do you do that with children? I decided to try a country cottage nestled alongside the Mapleton Falls National Park.

Normally we’d do a beachside unit, but that can be exhausting when you’re the one lugging boogie boards and cleaning sand out of everything. Mapleton Falls Farm Stay sounded like far less work.

The farmhouse had the basics including a fully stocked pod coffee machine, which was a pleasant surprise. For entertainment there wasn’t much more than a television, a stereo and some aging board games.

eggsThere was also the promise of bushwalking, cows, egg laying chickens and a shaded swing in an old tree to keep the kids amused for hours.

As promised the cows were friendly and delighted the kids with their eagerness to be handfed.

The three chickens produced half a dozen warm, white eggs. And the swing was great for pushing the boundaries of daring as well as for contemplative rocking.

The bushwalk on offer was only a very short track, the Wompoo Circuit – enough to keep everyone interested for an easy half hour walk.

When they’d had enough of that there was always a comfy couch and iPods to listen to – or the massage chair, which was another unexpected luxury and a great place to read!

For a family wanting to get away and really relax, Mapleton Falls Farm Stay was a great option. At less than two hours drive from Brisbane, it’s easy to access – and somewhere our city kids can go ‘free range’ for a while.


Along the Huon Trail…

On Sunday morning, we jump in the dodgy ute EB has hired for work and head south from Hobart along the Huon Trail, which winds along the spectacular coastline, through quaint townships and past rural homes to drool over with their 180-degree views of Storm Bay.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

From a distance, they all look the same, but one local tells us there are hundreds of varieties of daffodils.

Everywhere you look, daffodils illuminate the cloudy day. Their sunny faces defy the brisk temperature and feisty breeze to pop up in paddocks, old rainwater tanks and gardens, along the roadside, and even around a retro Hills Hoist.

Moving on from daffodils to aromas of citrus and blossom, we pause to try luscious award winning wines at Home Hill Winery + Restaurant.

Try the award winning 2010 Kelly's Reserve Pinot Noir. Yum.

Try the award winning 2010 Kelly’s Reserve Pinot Noir. Yum.

Home Hill feels très français. With its two varieties of wines – chardonnay and pinot noir – we could be in Burgundy again.

Of course, our pause extends to lunch. The wines are exceptional, the service is relaxed and friendly, and the food is delicious. What more could you ask for on a lazy Sunday?

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Along the Huon Trail you’ll find fabulous regional specialty produce, so you can do your own version of ‘hunting and gathering’ – from local wine, salmon, oysters and handmade cheeses to fresh-as fruit and vegetables. Apparently, the cherries here are spectacular if a little confused. We’re told they tend to burst into fruity brilliance only to be hit by frosts – but that makes them a must-do indulgence.

There’s more here than food though – from jetboat rides along the Huon River, the Tahune Airwalk above the forest, an Art trail, Bruny Island spectacular cheeses and cruises, and more… Did I mention we love Tasmania? 

More Tassie posts:


Hobart – the end of the rainbow

It’s officially the last week of winter in Australia and while Brisbane has been feeling more like summer, Hobart is delightfully crisp and the peak of Mount Wellington is lightly sprinkled with snow.

We’re back in Tasmania this week for work and play – and to take in more of this endlessly photogenic city. The pictures tell the story…

Copyright: Louise Ralph

We’re staying in Wrest Point Casino. I remember coming here – well, trying to get through the front door – while I was prac-teaching in Hobart in the 1980s. It was Australia’s first legal casino, so there was a super strict dress code for this posh, state-of-the-art venue.

But the guys I was with didn’t cut it in the best-dressed department and we didn’t quite make it beyond the bouncers in the foyer. C’est la vie.

It’s looking a little tired now and the gamblers aren’t exactly the who’s who of Australia (oh, that’s why they let us in), but just nearby on a grassy stretch of land at the edge of the bay there’s plenty of action.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Ducks, pied oystercatchers, seagulls and other water birds mingle on the lawn outside the casino under a waning moon. It’s a festival of birds.

Meanwhile in Berridale, a short boat ride from Hobart, the Museum of Old + New Art (MONA) nestles in the landscape waiting to impress. Like a fortress, it holds a whole other world within.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

And when you’ve immersed yourself in incredible, often confronting works of art in this underground space, you can come up for air and indulge in delicious food and bevs…

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Moo Brew beer tasting at MONA

Back in Hobart, Saturday morning meanderings through Salamanca markets must be followed by some R&R in Jack Greene’s, one of our favourite bars.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Upstairs at Jack Greene’s is the perfect place to hang out…

Of course, there’s world-renowned whisky to be tasted at Nantes, galleries bursting with the exceptional creations of local artists, and a whole waterfront to wander along.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

With the wilderness not too far away and those endless water views, Hobart – well, all of Tasmania – really is pure gold at the end of the rainbow…

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Past posts about Tasmania:

Bruny Island Cruising


The carnival comes to (Brisbane) town

It’s almost Royal Queensland Show (Ekka) time in Brisbane and preparations are in full swing for this huge annual event where city meets country.

At the city’s closest caravan park, where we live during the working week, we are immersed in a totally different perspective of this Ekka-slash-carnival life.

The “carnies” (carnival workers) are here… and the park has come to life, crammed to bursting with an array of massive vans of all shapes, sizes and conditions.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Ancient carnival-style vans sit alongside the latest in mobile living – extending decks, satellite dishes and ensuites.

It’s an impressive sight – and not just the vans. These resilient, rough-around-the-edges people have an incredible work ethic. And a rainbow-worthy variety of hair colours…

Right now they’re on the go from dawn ‘til dusk (or later) setting up for the Ekka’s opening on Thursday.

You’d think there’d be a lot of partying going on and the odd brawl. But by the time the moon is up, the park is silent except for the squawking and chattering of fruit bats and other night creatures.

There are no happy hour antics here. The only action is in the laundry, where eight machines are humming day and night.

High viz workwear and a variety of body art and piercings are the trend du jour.

There’s always a smile, a nod and a gidday. Kids are everywhere, riding their bikes around, sometimes almost running you down but apologising with unexpected grace and endearing cheek.

The extendable decks I’ve always thought were going a bit too far suddenly make more sense. For these families on the road, they’re perfect for keeping toddlers and toys out of harm’s way.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

In two weeks, they’ll pack up and move on to the next town, the next carnival, dragging their houses, rides and sideshow alley paraphernalia with them.

The funky back packer campervans and grey nomad caravans will emerge, no longer dwarfed by the magnitude of the Carnie world.

But they’ll be back next year, and this tourist park will welcome them as always. After all, what’s not to like.


Brisbane nightscapes

Our crazy commuting existence continues, and time to travel or blogger on about it has evaporated. Yes the wishlist lives on, but living moment to moment has a lot going for it.

Like braving the chill to learn the tricks of night photography, and seeing Brisbane in a different light…

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Of course, I’m infinitely distractible and unaccustomed to timers and tripods. So I walked off a couple of times to find a better angle, with my camera and tripod in hand, forgetting I was mid-shot.

And I thought only EB couldn’t keep still for more than two seconds…

But yes, I did manage to occasionally – and here are some of the night moves to prove it.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Council buses… or aliens?

Copyright: Louise Ralph

Brisbane’s wheel as buses pass us on the bridge…

Copyright: Louise Ralph

The Treasury Casino from South Bank…

Remember Forever runs brilliant workshops and masterclasses around Australia. They got me loving the M-word (that’s M for manual) and I haven’t looked back. Except to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.


One perfect day…

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There’s something magical about looking out of your loft-office window and seeing whales breaching just off Pottsville beach.

They’re travelling north along Australia’s ‘whale highway’ on their annual migration – and this is one time I don’t mind a little traffic noise.

It’s a perfect day in the office.

PS. In the absence of a telephoto lens, I’ve added these pics, taken on a whalewatching trip in Hervey Bay a few years ago. It’s a brilliant place to get up close and personal with these majestic creatures. But watching them from my office window isn’t all bad either…


coastal life + city fix

There is an ideal view of the world. From our office window in Pottsville – and in our heads. But reality bites…

view from the loft

A few months ago, we followed our hearts and moved down to Pottsville, a small coastal town in the Northern Rivers region of NSW.

Now, hanging out in the Douglas Albert in a caravan park just outside Brisbane’s CBD, we can’t help laughing at ourselves (a little hysterically). What were we thinking?

With both of our businesses based in Brisbane, we thought things would bubble along as usual, meeting with clients a couple of days a week and working from our ‘loft’ overlooking the ocean the rest of the time.

Instead, we leave home on a Monday morning at 3.45 to miss the traffic, set ourselves up in the ‘trailer park’, work with our clients for the week, then head home after 7pm on Thursday to miss the ‘car park’ on the M1.

C’est la vie. What’s not to like about a life in motion?

It requires being more organised than usual (did I mention I hate packing) and a lot of adjusting.

But we’re discovering new parts of a city we thought was beyond familiar and we seem to have more time to enjoy it. After all, playing house in a motorhome isn’t exactly a lot of work.

And driving back to the coast at the end of every week just feels right. Not quite home yet, but that shift in energy as the ocean comes into view is an amazing feeling.

Recently, rolling back into Brisbane as dawn bathed the city in hazy gold, we realised how much we loved this coastal life + city fix. Not forever, but for now…

We can feel that subtle shift as ‘the end’ of our comfort zone moves further away. Which just goes to show that change isn’t only good, it’s revitalizing.

There’s another upside. We’re now prepped and ready for those grey nomad wanderings in the DA. And it could happen sooner rather than later now.

This lifestyle is addictive…


Climb every mountain… on Lord Howe Island

A life lived half in the city and half on the coast has left both EB and I temporarily speechless. The upside is I’ve overcome my fear of packing, but that’s another story. I’m taking a mental break with some retrospective travelling while we adjust to our life in motion. It’s 2011, we’re off to Lord Howe Island, and I have no idea what I’m in for…

Copyright: Louise Ralph

We’ve just landed at Lord Howe Island, 600km off Australia’s east coast. It’s a tiny speck on the ocean dominated by two enormous mountains,  Mount Gower and ‘little bro’ Mt Lidgbird.  EB points at the biggest one (in case I hadn’t noticed).

That’s Mount Gower.

I’ve been here before, back in the day with my parents, so I nod. Yep. That’s Mount Gower.

We’re climbing it tomorrow, he informs me.

I shudder the full length of my desk-fit body. Eight kilometres straight up.

No, I say. EB looks at me incredulously. What do you mean no? I mean ‘never’. I’d love to, but I can’t do it. I just can’t.

EB appears to agree, reluctantly booking in for the climb later in the week – on his own.

He is ever the optimist. So, he leads me off cycling around the island, walking the trails, climbing every mountain.

Except Mount Gower. Never Mount Gower.

Bring it on… or something

Way too early one morning, I’m on yet another path that hugs the spectacular rugged coastline. This one leads to the base of  Mount Gower (Don’t even ask!).

The walk is long enough for me to find comfort in a group where some find rock hopping challenging. Okay, I’m still nervous about the 8-plus km straight up, but I’m suddenly glad I decided to come.

Imagine how annoyed I’d be with myself if EB returned and told me the group wasn’t made up of fearless fitness freaks and rangy mountain folk. Just people like me – excited, in a slightly hysterical way, but definitely more puffing than puffed up.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

The rope-assisted climb begins and I’m remembering how much I love this walking-slash-scrambling up mountains thing, edging along narrow paths above sheer drops, challenging my fears (and yes, there’s nowhere to hide when EB knows this about me!).

A few tough but amazing hours later, we reach the summit and find ourselves in a mystical forest where pathways made by wild creatures could just as easily lead you off the edge of the cliff.

Our guide Jack Shick is a fifth generation Islander and third generation mountain guide. His passion for this place – and shimmying-up-palm-tree ability – is already obvious. But wait, there’s more.

A bird’s-eye view

Jack points out some elegant birds, with wingspans slightly over a metre, gliding on the thermals high above us.

Providence Petrels, he says. This is the only place they breed, and you can ‘call them down’. Yeah right.

Then he starts making weird noises that sound suspiciously like mating calls.

Suddenly one of these totally wild and extremely rare birds plops to the ground at Jack’s feet and fearlessly climbs into his hands. Then there’s a lot of serious plopping going on as several others land in awkward feathery bundles around us.

Their landing ability may be severely lacking, but they have to be the extroverts of the bird world.

They soon toddle off, unimpressed by the motley bunch of humans. So do we, back down to a sunny spot overlooking Mount Lidgbird.

For me, there’s always a moment, on a walk like this, when I look back to where I’ve come from and feel stunned. How did my legs carry me that far or that high?

Soon EB and I are sliding and scrambling down the mountain with two 13 year-old boys who have energy to burn (and yes, our well-honed parenting instincts are in full swing!).

At the bottom there’s a lot of whoop-whooping going on (mostly in my head). Not just because it’s a fascinating climb or even because I conquered the mountain – but because I did something tougher. I faced down my fears.

And there endeth the lesson.

Except… all that learning maketh me peckish (and thirsty). Time for a celebratory bubbly and a very civilized dinner in the fabulous Pandanus restaurant.

…and there’s still some walks we haven’t done yet.

Copyright: Louise Ralph

On the track to the Goat House Cave…

A ‘climb every mountain’ chorus line: It’s all here. Pick your grade – from 1-5. There is Transit Hill (2 km return), Malabar Hill and Kims Lookout (5 hours return), Goat House Cave (5 hours return and awesome), Mount Gower (8 hours return), Rocky Run and Boat Harbour, Intermediate Hill and more. (Note to self: next time, hide all maps from EB).

Climb the mountain…