An Other Place: A Tiki Tour

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A tiki-tour of the lower right corner of New Zealand's West Island.

An Other Place

HMS Endeavour.

Early one morning, before the sun was rising, thirteen of us climbed onto a 'bus to the airport . . . onto a 'plane . . . across the Tasman sea . . . off the 'plane again and onwards, to the hotel.
That was in Sydney, at the start of an eight-day tour.

Wash and brush-up then walk to Circular Quay where, we were informed, HMS Endeavour (the replica) was to sail past, after her circumnavigation of Australia. Well, she did sail past but somewhat disappointingly, she passed at the far end of the harbour bridge – we were all looking forward to a rather closer view. But still, her one-gun salute to Sydney was pretty impressive.

After that, we split up into groups to do our own things over in Manly (that's a place, I'm informed) which had been a lovely boat ride, and a pleasant walk for those inclined – an enjoyable day out. Meanwhile one of us walked through the Botanic Gardens, spending an hour at the gallery in his lifelong search for 'art' then through the park and stopping off again, this time at the museum. Not forgetting coffee between.

At the end of the day, all returned safely.

Climb onto another 'bus, collecting some extras from the North Island plus a couple from Holland and twenty-some of us went on, to Canberra. A tour of the Parliament complex, including a few minutes in one of the side chambers where some poor bloke earnestly trying to make his point seemed to be being comprehensively ignored.

Those Aussies did a good job with their capital – the view along the Parliamentary Axis, to the War Memorial, is quite impressive, as is the War Memorial itself – and the view backover.

Onward, ever onward – to Melbourne now, after a stopover, via the snowy mountains – pretty scenery with commentary by the driver and our courier.

The womenfolk went a-shopping while we inferiors wandered around in two groups, walking and on the tram – Gold Cards [special rates for seniors] are ever so useful, aren't they? At one place, a quizzical look and “Are you seniors in your own country?” Perhaps that was a response to my Brit accent (everyone knows that Oz & Kiwi accents are indistinguishable. . . ?).

Having got off the tram and walked in search of coffee, the rain set in and it being a long wet walk back to the tram stop, we sat and then the other party happened by, also in search of coffee. We sat. We sat, we few, we happy few, we band of half-a-dozen sat and waited for the rain to stop.

Eventually we asked the proprietor if he would call a taxi for us and the poor chap must have spent ten, nay fifteen, minutes on the 'phone but eventually we got back to the hotel – and at a surprisingly reasonable cost. They do take their tourists seriously. . . .

Another day, and we all set off to have a look at Mornington Peninsula, Gold Cards at the ready (they worked a treat – well, mostly). It was somewhere that quite a few of us wanted to go so it seemed like a good idea at the time and, indeed, was a pleasant day.

Getting back into town, though, wasn't, as we had to cast about (it was evening by then) for the means to get back some distance north to Frankston – not so easy when there are thirteen of you – but eventually a mini-bus driver loaded us aboard (again at very reasonable cost) and delivered us to the railway station. Unfortunately, the train driver had lost his keys or there was a session of line maintenance or aliens had landed or something, so there were no trains, just a private company's buses – who didn't like Gold Cards but eventually made an exception “Just This Once” . . .

Melbourne's South Bank is a very pleasant place to wander around in the evening … and those balls of flame from the gas burners – Wow! The Casino too (trying to imagine a city like Las Vegas, full of places like that, one's mind does naught but boggle).

Perhaps it was all of us who felt that we had to contribute a little something to the casino's profits – all those hungry machines crying “feed me, feed me” . . . personally, I resent every cent of that dollar I spent. . .

Back home again after a very pleasant eight-day interlude.

Oh yes, nearly forgot – I have to report that their coffee isn't too bad, either.

Articles by Rod

Rod

25.06.12 Front Page

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