Author Archives: Steve Walker

About Steve Walker

Once a tech in-house PR type, now professional photo/videographer and recreational drone pilot. Violinist. Flautist. Occasional conductor. Oenophile.

Spring Surprise in Canberra

Wednesday 18 September 2024 – Given that we had the day all to ourselves and that the weather outlook was decent, I doubt that many of my loyal fans, such as you, dear reader, will be surprised to learn that we went for a walk. Of course we did.

Jane had, of course, done her preparation, and so we had a general sense of which direction we would head out in without actually having any real knowledge of what we’d see. I’d read and heard that Canberra is an odd place because of its provenance – a city custom-built between Sydney and Melbourne, to shut down the late 19th-century arguments the two cities were having about which should the capital of a newly-federated Australia. Canberra was formally declared as the capital on March 12, 1913. This is going to be a long enough post without my going into its location – where aboriginals had lived for 21,000 years – or how it got its name; its Wikipedia entry is a good source for those seeking details.

I have to say that in the initial stages of our walkabout, the place did feel weird. Looking at the street layout, it’s quite clearly a confected city.

It has many architectural flourishes and artistic touches which don’t quite gel into a place with a soul. It’s interesting to walk round, though.

The first place we explored was City Hill (centre of left map above). It’s not much of a hill, but it’s been planted with conifers and a sodding great flagpole, flying the ACT (Australian Capital Territory) flag.

On the hill’s periphery, there’s the Canberra Centenary Column

which contains a time capsule containing 100 representative items of Canberra’s history. A lot of thought has been put into alignment of things.

Wanting to walk around the city, we found our way to City Walk in the hope that it would be helpful in shaping our strolling. To get there we passed the Melbourne Building

which, completely unsurprisingly, given Canberra’s provenance, is opposite a mirror image of itself called the Sydney Building. Both buildings have a nice cloister along the sides

and the Sydney Building even has a Tardis halfway along one side,

though quite why I’m not sure; a couple of locals walking past it were puzzled – clearly not Whovians.

Although most of the people we saw seemed perfectly affluent, it’d clear that not everyone is comfortably off.

Generally speaking, the buildings in that area are functional, rather than photogenic

but we passed many artistic installations of various sorts as we walked along.

We found murals in a couple of places

though there were many unofficial additions to the originals.

There were also many floral touches.

OK, I’ll confess: we did have a specific objective to include in our walk, as the hotel receptionists had told us about it when we checked in. We were lucky enough to be visiting Canberra when Floriade, the biggest celebration of spring in Australia, was on. There were pointers to it all over the place

and so we made our way to Commonwealth Park to see what it was like. It was lovely. If you like tulips, it was positively orgiastic.

There were some non-floral artistic touches on display

There were various stages (yes, there was a Tulip Stage among them); on one of them, a bunch of kids were singing

to an audience, who were sometimes joining in

each in their own key, of course.

There were many retail opportunities

the most striking of which, for us as UK residents, was

Christmas items. Perfectly normal here, of course, but I don’t associate celebrating spring with celebrating Christmas, so I was a bit startled.

One retail opportunity was, however, right up our street.

so we popped in to try a few samples.

After Floriade, we turned our steps towards what is pretty much the city’s raison d’être – the government centre. We could see bits of it across the lake from Floriade.

Our route there took us past the Cook Memorial Globe

beyond which we could see that, sadly, the Cook Memorial Jet (i.e. fountain) was not operational today. The globe is a detailed piece of work, showing the routes that Cook sailed in his explorations from Plymouth

and around Australia.

The Government Zone has many imposing buildings,

and, of course, the Parliament Building on Capitol Hill (which is not much of a hill either, to be honest)

with its very dramatic, though somewhat leaky roof.

OK, it’s not really the roof, it’s just a, erm, well, how would you describe it? [ An over-the-top flag holder? – Ed ]

We did go up on to the real roof, from where we could see the old Parliament Building

with a bloody flagpole in the middle of the bloody view (grrr!). A further piece of designed city alignment here – as you can see, the route from old to new Parliament buildings aligns exactly with the peak of Mount Ainslie.

The inside of the new Parliament Building is quite impressive,

(I sneaked a look through an open door and saw that there was a massive piss-up on the cards in the near future)

and, outside, the alignment and symmetry continue.

We had passed by the Old Parliament Building on the way to the New One, but its rather lovely garden was full of schoolkids on an outing. In fact, I think that Wednesday must be National Schoolkids Visit Government day, because there were several parties of schoolkids all over the government estate. However, they’d left the gardens by the time we passed by going back, so we could see (and smell) the fantastic wisteria that was blooming there.

We saw some birdlife in and around these gardens.  One bird I saw walked like a pigeon, but Jane thought it couldn’t be one because of its crest.

Google Lens showed us that there is, after all, a (rather alien-looking) bird called a crested pigeon. Sulphur-crested cockatoos were in abundance – probably loathed by the locals, but for us a lovely sight. We spent several happy moments stamping around after them to try to get one to show us its crest.

Hurrah!

And so, some 11km later, we arrived back at the hotel, having had a very engaging walk around Canberra.  Yes, the bits we saw felt a bit odd, because it’s a confected city, but it was very interesting to see it; and Floriade was lovely.

We only have the one full day here. Tomorrow we travel to Sydney.

Well, we might.

Virgin Australia, who have managed, in ways both large and small, to bugger us about for every flight we’ve taken with them so far, have warned us that high winds are expected and this might affect our travel.  Listening to the wind whistling round us on the sixth floor of the hotel, I wonder indeed what outrages outages we might expect tomorrow.

Farewell, Tasmania; Hello, Mainland

Tuesday 17 September 2024 – We had to depart Tasmania yesterday, after 12 days and 1200km of travelling across and around the island. It was cold and windy most of the time, wet for some of the time, and even sunny for some of it – but we really enjoyed our time there. All we had to do for today was to get ourselves to Hobart airport, return the hire car and catch a Virgin Australia flight to our next destination – Canberra, the capital of Australia.

So, we bade a final farewell to the hotel’s fine view over Coles Bay

and drove the 220km to Hobart via some more attractive east coast scenery

and a brief stop at the “Spiky Bridge”, which is near a town called Swansea (to get to which you drive past Pontypool, I might add).

This is a convict-built bridge, with, erm, spikes along the top.

No-one knows why.  If you look closely at the mortar, you can see the shells incorporated to provide calcium

which shows that material was probably taken from an aboriginal midden, similarly to what we saw at the Henry Jones Art Hotel in Hobart.

The popular legend is that the Spiky Bridge was built after a chap called Edward Shaw offered the Superintendent of Rocky Hills Probation Station, Major de Gillern, a ride home one night after a game of cards. Shaw intended to highlight the hazards for Tasmanian travelers and wanted improvements made to the road between Swansea and Little Swanport. Rather than wait patiently for his repeated requests to be granted, he raced the Major home at breakneck speed through the gully to prove his case. Needless to say, the bridge was erected shortly after.

The bridge was the last diversion on our airport journey, and we arrived wondering if VA could find any more ways of buggering us about, our anxiety stemming from when we tried its online check-in and it wouldn’t recognise the credentials we provided. We therefore joined the VA check-in queue and it turned out that they’d tossed only a minor googly in our direction; the flight was being fulfilled by Link Airways, we were too early for their check-in and so should wait fifteen minutes and queue up over there, no just there, to complete the process.  So we got ourselves coffee and whilst Jane guarded our prized place at the head of this check-in queue, I went off to do a slightly better job of getting a photo of the devilishly charming art installation in the airport’s baggage collection area.

The queue for security was a bit of a zoo

and the flight’s departure was slightly delayed but otherwise everything went smoothly until the landing, which the captain accurately warned us would be lumpy due to high winds. A taxi whisked us swiftly to our hotel, the QT, which was behind a maze of construction work

which, we were told, was part of construction of a new light railway and had been going on for quite some time. We were a little dismayed to find that our second-floor room looked out over these works, which are due to start at 7am daily; so Jane had a chat with the receptionist and he was kind enough to relocate us to the sixth floor, looking the other way (our room, not the receptionist). So I’d like formally to apologise to whoever got room 215 for the night of 17th September.

After a bite to eat and a glass of something cold we went out for a bit of a stroll, obviously, round the back of the hotel

where some sulphur-crested cockatoos were tucking in to some yummy grass

and when we got back we found that our relocated room gave us a great view of the sunset over Black Mountain.

We have a “day at leisure” tomorrow in Canberra, and the weather forecast is good: 18°C and sunny. I wonder what we’ll do with the day?

 

 

Freixenet Freycinet

Monday 16 September 2024 – After our two engaging, informative and photogenic days with Bushie, it was time to leave Jetsonville yesterday and head towards our final destination on this unique island (apart from the departure lounge at Hobart airport, that is) – the Freycinet Peninsula, which dangles off the east coast of Tasmania and is a National Park. In theory, the drive should have taken us just over three hours, but we somehow or other spent nearly five hours covering the 220km. Rather than take the swiftest route, we elected to take the coast road, our old friend the A3 along which we’ve covered so many kilometres, as this took us past a couple of places which promised some photographic action. First, though, we passed the hop fields we saw yesterday, and Jane took a photo showing how much more extensive they are than was shown in my photo;

and we passed through Derby, and took a photo of what we think is the bit of scenery which collapsed when the dam broke and ended the town’s tin mining period.

As ever, the scenery on our drive was lovely, made more so by sunshine,

and we soon reached Pyengana, a village which is noted for its cheese production.  We could have stopped for a cheese tasting, but somehow the idea didn’t appeal; instead we took an 11km diversion to see a waterfall, the St. Columba Falls.  Jane wasn’t too sure that this would be a worthwhile detour, an impression which might possibly have been emphasised when we got there and took a look at the track leading to the falls.

Someone had clearly seen the netting across the entry to the track and thought “bugger it, let’s take a look anyway”. We decided that if that person was prepared to take that risk, then so would we, dammit. (Also, we talked to people coming the other way, who said it would be OK; we like to live dangerously, but only when it’s safe to do so). There was a problem on the path

but it was relatively easy to clamber over it and carry on, past some riparian scenes

and some pretty amazing tree ferns

through which we could just about catch sight of the falls

so it looked like it might be worth all that danger after all. The falls are really  quite impressive (yes, an Icelander would concede that they are actually waterfalls), but photographically really quite difficult to capture, partly because of the viewpoint offered and partly because of the position of the sun. The best I could do is via video.

After the falls, we stopped for a coffee at St. Helens, an attractive coastal town,

before moving on towards our next diversion.  En route, we passed a landscape that was difficult to decode.

We think that the foreground planting is grape vines, but can’t explain the background – dead trees among live shrubbery; very strange.

Our next diversion didn’t take us far off our chosen route. We reached Bicheno, another coastal town

and went to look at the beach. Or, rather, the rocks,

which look very fine with their covering of lichen.  Beyond them, you can see froth and foam, which gives a further clue to why we stopped here.

(So does the title of the video, I guess.)

After Bicheno, it was but a short drive to the Freixenet Freycinet peninsula,

National Park and Lodge, which is where we were due to spend a couple of nights.

Freycinet National Park occupies a large part of the peninsula, (named after French navigator Louis de Freycinet), and Schouten Island (which on the map looks like a drip falling off the witch’s nose that is the Freycinet peninsula). Founded in 1916, the park shares the distinction of being Tasmania’s oldest park with Mount Field National Park, which is in the Uncharted Quarter – the southwest of the island.

Freycinet Lodge is quite an impressive operation. By the reception are the bar and restaurant areas

and our cabin, or rather our “coastal pavilion”, which is some 300m away, nestled among the woods

is very swish

and has obviously had a very cool and with-it designer, which made the interior exceedingly chichi and almost totally unusable for practical purposes. I should have realised this when in order to get in to the place we had to open the door by pulling it.  Also, it’s great having nice low mood lighting throughout, but there are times when actually I would appreciate being able to light the place such that I can see what the fuck is going on; but it’s not an option – gloom is, apparently, trendy. The light switch system is so complex and mysterious that it needs the  instruction manual which you can eventually find on the in-room TV, and it’s got a great supply of all the things you need for a comfortable stay – fridge, kettle, that kind of thing – but all hidden behind panels that merge in seamlessly with the walls, so you have to go round experimentally tugging or pushing at bits of the wall to see if they move in some way to reveal what’s behind. Very, very chichi, but very, very frustrating in the dark after a couple of large gins. [ On the plus side, comfortable bed, good shower, and a bath outside on the deck for star-gazing – Ed ]

Generally, the environment around the lodge is very pleasant, again helped by the sunshine we’ve had of late. There are nice views available

but the Australian ravens

sound very derisive.

We had the day to ourselves today, with no formal programme, but a strong recommendation for a walk to a lookout point over Wineglass Bay. One can walk all the way from the lodge to the lookout point; on the other hand, one can drive 3km to the car park whence the actual walk starts. We’re on holiday travelling, so we took the lazier option, but I should make it clear that it’s not like we put in no effort at all.

We had sunshine, which was good, and slightly unexpected, but the wind was a cold one, which made Getting On With It a good idea. It’s a well-marked path

with some steeper bits

past some amazing boulders.

We did stop to take some pictures of the views on the way up. You can see the nearest town, Coles Bay, quite clearly.

The final push to the top is up some more steps,

around 326 of them, and at the top there’s a circuit of viewpoints to navigate,

with more impressive boulders on the hillside

and (of course) a great view of Wineglass Bay.

Had there not been a good view, I would have been a bit tetchy, and not without justification, I think. The way down is slightly different from the way up, if you follow the signposts (like almost everybody did),

and continues to give good boulder.

There’s one mysterious rock quite near the bottom;

we can’t fathom how those dimples came about. Reaching the car park, we passed a rather cute structure shaped like a whale,

which I assume is a bicycle rack.

The road from and back to the lodge passes Honeymoon Bay, so we thought we’d pop down for a quick look;

our visit was short and sweet, much, I suppose, like your average honeymoon (eh, Starmer?) and we were soon back at the lodge and taking it easy for the rest of the day.

Tomorrow, we have, with some regret, to depart these shores and return to the Australian mainland. We’ll therefore be heading north which means that it should at least be warmer. Whether it’s more interesting or not will be revealed in these pages in due course.