country « CyclingDutchGirl

Posts Tagged ‘country’

About Boats, Boots, Beers & a Blowfish (but no Bicycle)

February 12, 2012

Exactly 60 years after my granddad’s brother got on the ship ‘Het Zuider Kruis‘, (the Southern Cross) and set sail for New Zealand, I got here on my bicycle.

Sadly he isn’t around any more. But his wife Mary and two daughters are still living in Christchurch.

An odd place to arrive. Of course I’ve heard about the earthquakes. But to cycle around town, and to see the destruction, is shocking. Buildings in crumbles and so many houses damaged beyond repair, boarded up and ready to be knocked down. It’s sad. About 6,000 people have left the city. And there have been 10,000 aftershocks since the September quake.

Five of them shook me. And as I ran into the living room in half a panic Aunt Mary didn’t bat an eyelid. She’s used to them by now. “look, the light is not even shaking! With magnitute 5 or over the light will shake. But if you’re worried just stand in the doorway or under the table in the kitchen“. But it does seem a little odd for me to sit under the table while she’s still in the comfy chair watching telly.

But it’s not right. The ground under your feet is not supposed to move.

I’ll be away on my bicycle soon.

My arrival here was interesting. I dislike airports and flying. But hardly anything can go wrong if the Stewardess on your flight is “Miss World Body Builder”. You would not want to get in an argument with her :-)

They took my shoes away for disinfection at immigration. I got them back soaking wet. I did expect my shoes to get wet in New Zealand. Just not that quickly.

My last couple of weeks in Australia have been busy,

I sailed in a race and, not surprisingly, lost. I have no idea about sailing. And I don’t like water. Still had a great day thanks to Gary Mason.

Took a trip to Penquin Island with Stuart and his sister Erin. Erin works for the department of Environment and Conservation so we got the chance to stay overnight. It’s normally only open for public during the day.

It is WA’s largest penguin colony.

Apart from Penguins there’s a whole lot of other birds out there. Like pelican,

Bridled Tern,

and seagulls.

But our main reason for heading down there was to catch fish.

Not these,

But these.

And so we did. I cought 4 while Stuart and Erin got about 400. Well, not quite, but a whole lot more than me anyway (I blame it on the rod).

Then I crossed three states in one day to make it to the Tamworth Country Music festival

Where I celebrated Australia day in (some sort of) style. On the 26th of January Australians commemorate the arrival of the first fleet at Sydney Cove in 1788 by dressing up in the National flag.

last year I rode the motorbike here. This year Lance gave me a ride down from Brisbane.

Apart from wandering the streets checking out performers I must admid I did very little during the 10-day festival. I drank beer. One of my favorite pasttimes.

It’s only in a place like this I see people I got -wel, had before it fell of my tractor- on my Ipod.

I ran into Chad Morgan aka The Sheik of Scrubby Creek in the supermarket. He is, as his new films title tells us, Not Death Yet…

And had a yarn and a dance with The Bushwackers,

Who, hurray, won a golden guitar this year. (the prize in Australian Country Music)

Beccy Cole won a bunch of those too.

But time has come to leave the boots and beers behind. Get some serious milage done and try to repair my liver.

Many roads are waiting for the touch of my wheels.

The weather is, after a few drizzly days, great.

Just a long white cloud. (lame, sorry)

Posted in Australia, New Zealand | Tagged beer, birds, boats, boots, country, fishing | 8 Comments »

Summertime, And the livin’ is easy

January 9, 2012

If you have to take a shower, you might as well share it.

With 100 frogs.

You never know I figured.

No luck so far. But there’s many more to go.

And I have to admit, I rather be kept company by these little creatures where the most dangerous side-effect might be a salmonella-infection, than this monster.

A Mulga snake, I stumbled across just outside my bedroom door at Byro-Station. Not the friendliest. This King Brown is actually a black snake (just to keep things confusing), and fairly deadly. Lucky Andrew got to him first so no need to worry. It only cost him a pool-cue.

I came up for a visit to the station for new-years and summer. With 40+ degrees and copious amounts of alcohol both a success.

Can’t believe it’s over two years since I came through on my pushbike.

Can’t believe I’m still here now.

In the mean-time Lynne & Andrew got married and had a baby girl.

I got a new bicycle and rode around the country. A lot easier, I’m sure

But my new bicycle has been parked up for a few weeks because I had people to see and places to go. It happens when you stick around one place too long. It (almost) starts feeling like home.

So I better get outta here in a hurry. And I will!

Well, not a major hurry.

But I will!

Posted in Australia | Tagged beer, country, frogs, outback, snake, station, travel | 5 Comments »

A ride in the country

February 7, 2011

The day I left Melbourne it rained.

Ofcourse I wouldn’t get a little inconvienence like that stand in my way, so I followed Don out of town on a brand new set of wheels…

Ok, here I have a confession to make.

I wasn’t on my beloved pushbike.

Instead, for three weeks, I’d swapped my trusted steed for one with an engine…

After cruising around India on a Royal Enfield nearly three years ago I developed a bit of a soft spot for these great (but greatly un-reliable) bikes. So I convinced my friend Don (Who I’ve met in Nepal nearly three years ago) to let me use his pride and joy to go to the Tamworth Country Music Festival. 1300km North of Melbourne.

So on that first rainy windy day Don guided me out of the crazy bustle of Melbourne onto some beautiful roads through the hills. He didn’t even flinch when I- still getting used to the transition from pushbike to motorbike- accidentally dropped the bike and broke the brake… It was a most embarrassing moment and I was happy there wasn’t any one near to see this clumsy display of motor-bike handling… Funny enough Don had counted on this to happen and brought a new brake-lever. I mustn’t do it again though.

About 50km out of town it stopped raining and started pissing down full force. So when, while sheltering in a coffee-shop, a nice lady took pity on me and invited me down to her house I gladly accepted. She continued by showing me around the area and telling me how exactly two years ago the catastrophic black saturday bushfires had come through her property and she and her family had no way out and lost all the sheds but managed to safe the house. It must’ve been terrifying. And hard to imagine looking at the weather now…

All dried up and securely wrapping my feet in plastic bags I set off only to be drenched again a few km down the track. Pathetic excuse for a summer I’m telling ye…

Apart from the bike being great and very pretty there is a few minor downfalls. She won’t go any faster than 80km/h. Which wasn’t a problem in India/Nepal. Nothing else there will go any faster. Slightly different in Australia… Going up the highway with the rain punching into my face like thousands of sharp little needles it was a little scary being overtaken by trucks, roadtrains and everything else on the road. The fact I couldn’t see a thing didn’t help. So I stopped to buy a pair of glasses. A slight improvement.

As I got further north the rain thinned out and by the time I cruised into the ‘Country Capital of Australia” it had all but dried out and the sun was shining. Temperatures soared and suddenly it was really rather hot.

But, as people kept telling me, it was nothing compared to the 40+ degrees they would usually have this time of year.

One difference with riding around on a motorbike compared to bicycle-travel is that people seem a little less keen to come up and have a chat.

Not so at Tamworth,

I hadn’t even gotten off the bike when Anders came up and told me he was the Royal Enfield dealer in Canberra. Luck would have it that I just spotted a shady spot by the river for my tent right next to his camp. Maybe not the most intelligent spot knowing how rivers tend to overflow randomly this side of the world, but great for a quick swim in the morning. Very refreshing.

We started talking and so it happened I found myself the next day surrounded by 349 other motorbikes joining the ‘Wolverine Poker Run’. There was only one Royal Enfield.

It was a great way to be shown around the country-side around Tamworth, green hills and pretty looking villages and farms. wonderful bike-riding roads. I did have to make sure to leave well before any one else and had just about every other bike overtake me as we moved on. Except for one, a man on a Triumph kept riding right behind me just to make sure I was alright, I thought this was very nice of him, but every time we stopped and I wanted to say thanks I wouldn’t know who it was, since I only seem to recognise him in my rearview-mirror…

The Tamworth Country Music Festival is known as the largest Country Music Festival in the Southern Hemisphere. Yay!

This year, mainly becausee the floods up in Queensland there was 40% less people than other years. But I thought it busy enough as it was. When I walked down to the main-drag, Peel street, a big wall of noise hit me. Slightly dazed I wandered up and down the road where buskers competing for attention sang their lungs out about every 10 meter or so. Every single shop/pub/restaurant had become a venue and any time of day you find music where ever you look.

I had a ball!

I made friends at the campground and went on bike rides to check out collectors collections, went to a proper bush-dance and attended numerous after-parties at Jake’s place (it’s where all the musicians hang out, so I’ve been told).

In the meantime I managed to eat, drink & be merry and even squeezed in some concerts that I wanted to see.

I gazed at sunsets, thunderstorms and starry skies.

Got invited for a healthy beacon & egg-breakfast at one neighbours place and went a little funny on champagne at another’s.

I got to walk around with hat & boots and no one thought it to be weird. It was great!

In a blur a week had passed…

The day I managed to escape the claws of Tamworth I rode to a dam, about 50km out-of-town. It was getting warmer now, the temperature had passed the 40degree mark which makes wearing leathers and gloves feel a bit ridiculous. So I dumped them in the car with Paul & Lance. Going up this dirt track I noticed a snake slithering his way across the road. I jumped off the bike to take a photo while the guys pulled up behind me; “Look! A snake!” I exclaimed while they walked towards me. “Looks like a Taipan…” Said Lance, “An Eastern Taipan” Agreed Paul while they both took a step back…. Apparently we’d just come across the deadliest snake, not just in Australia… But in the world! They both hadn’t seen them in the wild before so it was a pretty exciting experience all together.

I’d given myself more time to cruise back south. The weather had turned good after a 43degree Australia-day.

I took the road accross Nullo Mountain that beautifully meandered through valleys and forest. Such great scenery and such a great ride I enjoyed myself enormously. Different then cycling I had to keep an eye on my fuel. So when I found out there was no petrol to be found in Trunky Creek I sat down to think what to do next. I didn’t need to think long before a friendly local drained his Harley to help me get to the next pump. Thanks Mate!

With a kangaroo-warning I set off through the most scenic part of the trip. A small dirt road wound its way up and down valley’s giving me great views of surrounding bush- and farmland. A drawback on a motorbike is by the time you see a great picture you’ve passed it. So I’ve got very little evidence of this brilliant road.

I arrived in Goulburn where I’d agreed to meet Don who, on another Enfield, had come up from Melbourne to join me on the way back.

With a big smile on my face I rode behind Don, hearing the beautiful sound of his Enfield and thinking how much fun it is to ride around with more than one person…

The big smile rapidly disappeared when a big “BANG! CLANG! RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE, made an end to this adventure. As another friend put it; “All hell broke loose between my legs….“

As I was forced to pull up I checked what happened and saw that the engine had split in two. Even a fairly technically impaired person as myself could tell the bike wasn’t going to go anywhere in a hurry.

Don seemed not too fussed. He knows his bike. He was prepared for something to break, but he was a bit surprised that I broke a conrod. He told me I couldn’t possibly have broken the bike any more than I just had… But with 130.000km on an Indian-made conrod. What you expect…. right?

Later that night, in the pub, we decided that what happened was;

My engine exploded and as I slipped through burning oil avoiding the pieces of engine flying everywhere I only just manage to avoid an oncoming roadtrain and kangaroo hopping across the road while skillfully sliding to a stop without coming off the bike… Sounds better hey

Anders and Helen, my Tamworth friends, came to the rescue.

We managed to move the bike to his shop near Canberra and climbed together on the one left-over bike. Minor drawback was the fact we couldn’t fit the luggage on.

We continued South.

Taking turns riding now we rode up into the snowy mountains who are, at this time of year not snowy at all. Pretty hot actually. So we didn’t need to think twice to jump in a big lake at ….

Following the winding roads with spectacular views we got down to the snowy river and followed the dirt tracks jumping in the river to cool down every now and then.

At a roadhouse-sign we pulled up.

Old cars and motorbikes were scattered around, and an array of bicycles was strung up in the trees.

A scruffy-looking man staggered out of the house and started hurling abuse at Don… In a friendly-kind-of-way. He then offered him a beer.

And, as his friend came to join the party, told us the local police has ordered them not to drink together. Last time they did his friend attacked him with the shovel, so he pulled out his shotgun. Now, when they drink, they make sure to take sips in turn….

He proved to us what a funny sound the turkeys made by throwing a beer-bottle at them. And let me feed his baby-kangaroo who pood all over me.

Time to move back to Melbourne, so we did.

Where I caught up with some Tamworth-friends and ended up staying with one of their (Wayne) mum.

Wayne showed me around Melbourne and I even managed to see Genevieve on her birthday… She stayed in the hostel where I worked many moons ago.

We had a look at the storm coming in, we got the far outer-edges of cyclone Yasi who still managed to flood numerous streets around town.

As we speak bike and I are on the ‘Spirit of Tasmania’, the ferry accross the Bass Strait towards Tasmania…

Yay! New Adventures!

:-D

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Posted in Australia | Tagged camping, country, music, Royal Enfield, Tamworth | 5 Comments »

Country roads

March 20, 2010

You meet people when you travel. Often you know it’s once and never again, sometimes it’s different though.

I met Anja in Karinjini National Park. I knew she’d found herself a spot in Margaret River so when I finally got there we spent a few days together doing things I don’t often do. Belly dancing for example.

We decided to take a trip up to Perth for the ’City Muster’. A country music gathering with names like John Williamson, Kasey Chambers, Becky Cole and Lee Kernaghan. The same line-up as at the Darwin City Muster where I was eight months ago. Only difference – I knew half the lyrics by now thanks to some cd’s lying about in my tractor.

It was almost more fun watching the audience as it was seeing the bands, but I have converted another soul to country, haven’t I Anja…?

Organised as we are we never planned where to sleep. But on this Saturday night, around midnight, we found a perfect spot in the dunes right at the city beach. No signs, or people, telling us we couldn’t camp here. And a refreshing swim in the morning is all you need to wake up.

Don (you might remember from Nepal, Thailand, Darwin…) happened to be in Perth too. After meeting for a coffee we took his Enfield for a ride. I wasn’t quiet dressed for the occasion, but after borrowing his jacket, helmet & boots I was good to ride around a little. I still like motorcycles.

Apparently there is six degrees of separation right? …

I reckon there’s only two in Western Australia.

Everywhere I’ve gone and just about everyone I’ve talked to knows a person I have met before.

Up north I met Chicky, he lives in Margaret River and happened to know Anja as well. I stayed over at his place where I had the most comfy bed you can imagine; A swag on a trampoline

Jippa, one of the other guys I met in the same place took me for a mountain bike ride. Brilliant fun, and a lot less pushing then I do with my own bicycle… Especially the cold beer afterwards was extremely enjoyable.

A great thing about meeting up with people you’ve met before is that it feels like meeting up with old friends. It was no different here. I enjoyed the luxury of having a home and a family for a few days. Complete with BBQ’s and beaches and a dog.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, it’s not (just) the places you visit but the people you meet that make it all worthwhile.

I had a good time riding down to Augusta through lovely cool forest. But that is where the road ended. The most South-West corner of Australia. It was either cycle back up or try to get across the water. It didn’t take long at all to find a lift to the other side where I promptly got invited by a lady named Margaret. At the jetty she was waiting for her friends to come over to go fishing, swimming and watch the stingrays.

I joined them and ended up catching my first fish ever. Had it on my plate that same evening Life is great (well, not for that particular fish… obviously)

I do not like sand very much. Australia has been trying real hard to convince me and has given me red sand, yellow sand, white- and even black sand. But nothing helps, I still don’t like pushing through sand. I do like the places it usually gets me though.

Like along the track east of Augusta. I planned to camp and called into a farm-house to top up on water.

Chatting to the farm-lady I found out I’m the first cyclist she’s seen passing her house in the last seven years. She does see a few, but usually on the main road, just 10km further north…

About to go and milk cows she wondered if I’d care to have a look. Now I have a sister living on a dairy farm I thought it might be interesting to see how things work here.

There were 900 cows. All of them need milking twice daily.

I have never been shat and peed on by a cow before. I can tell you it’s not the greatest thing I’ve done and I’d recommend everyone to step back when it happens. It smells bad.

Two days and many cows later I thought it be time to move a little further east.

That’s when I got back into the forest where the trees grew bigger and the flies too. March flies.

I thought I had experienced them, but never as bad as on this stretch of road. As soon as you go below 20 km/h they come and drive you mad. Only on a long downhill run you get rid of them a little while before they come zooming around your head again. I found waving a branch around a very effective way to stop them from biting. It’s a bit of a hassle though, to cycle with one hand and wave that branch around with the other.

I got to Pemberton where I met some others cycling and even a hiker. Main conversation topic was those flies. And what to do about them. Apparently mixing baby oil with dettol works well. Haven’t tried it yet but will do so when the need arises.

Another topic was Sunderland. And how, apparently, they are the best… (you’re welcome Chris…)

On my map I’d seen a road that looked interesting to me. Through D’Entrecasteaux National Park. It’s remote and rugged and combines pristine beaches and tall tree forest in a wild and spectacular landscape… That is what it says in the leaflet anyway.

The road was rather rough but the March-flies weren’t too bad. It surprised me to find a whole lot of abandoned beach shacks at the end of a road to an Inlet. Great spot to camp, and no shortage of water.

It’s been real nice to just cruise around and stay in places a little longer since (as I keep telling myself) I’m in no particular hurry. I’m not actually going anywhere, just making a bit of a loop around the South-West.

So when I ran into a guy on a motorbike and started talking and drinking coffee after only 30km of cycling I wasn’t too bothered about staying right there for the night and have him cook up a feast on the BBQ while enjoying a glass of wine and listening to music. Yes, it’s a hard life indeed.

I made my way slowly to the valley of the Giants.

Big trees. Actually Huge Big trees. A kind of Eucalyptus grows here to heights up to 80 meter. Impressive to cycle in between, even more impressive to walk through the tops. That’s exactly what you can do at the ’tree-top-walk’ the name kindda gives that away)

I spend hours wandering around with Tommy and Nicole who are driving around and helped me out in a few different ways (nog bedankt he!)

In the small town of Denmark I fell off my bike. A silly thing to do in the middle of a busy town. Slightly embarrassing as well. It wasn’t my fault though! A little screw came undone so I couldn’t get my shoe loose from my pedal. Not even after I fell over. So I sat on the road, took off my shoe, got my bike back up and hopped on one sock to the nearest coffee shop while my ankle nearly snapped and ordered a coffee like it is all perfectly normal.

The coffee was excellent, so I ordered another one… and then an orange juice…

I got talking to a bunch of Dutchmen one of whom happened to own a sport shop and promised to send me a pair of bike shorts! Yay! How lucky was that?

Cycling away along the coast against the wind I wondered why I even bothered leaving Denmark that day. While looking around for a camp spot a van pulled up beside me: “Are you the Dutch girl..?” was the question. “We are the Buff-people!”

Eight months ago in Katherine I lost my ‘Buff’. I love this little piece of material so sent an email to the company asking where I could get one. They sent me a couple… Here in the van were Edward and Inge, the very same people who sent them to me! Over from Queensland for the Ulysses-meeting.

We camped together that night at gorgeous Shelley Beach.

I’ve seen lots and lots of motorbikes on the road the last few days. The Ulysses-club is Australia’s biggest motorcycle club where all members have at least one thing in common. They are all over 50. Their motto is; ‘Grow old disgracefully’… Sounds alright to me.

So I went, had a look and stayed. The full week.

I hung around the Buff-stand for a bit and checked out all those people on motorbikes, a very varied crowd indeed.

About 3500 people came to Albany from all over Australia and set up camp at the oval. There was a huge tent with bands playing, I had a look once but felt a little out-of-place.

It felt slightly ridiculous being in my tent trying to sleep at 9pm while all them ‘old people’ were out there dancing the night away.

It was a good chance to look around town, meet up with some old friends from near Mullewa and see another side of Australia…

And I did indeed meet some interesting people I’m sure to catch up with along the way.

The idea had been to leave Albany after a day or three and cycle up the Stirling ranges. Instead I stayed a week, got a lift up the highway and cycled only the last 40km. Because I wanted to be in Katanning before St. Patrick’s day.

When I got out of the van in Kojonup a lady came up and started talking to me. She told me she lived just 15km down the road and if I would like to come and stay…

On the farm it was sheep-shearing-time. A great opportunity to have a look around and see how that goes. I even had a go myself! I think I’ll stick to cycling, but good to have a look around.

In her beautiful farmhouse I discovered this lady’s sister is married to Shirley’s brother.

Shirley is, together with Isabel and Gerry, one of my ‘Three Aussie Grannies’ whom I met three years ago in the hostel in Ireland. When they heard about my plans they told me to come and see them when I got there…

They have followed my journey from the start, exactly three years ago today. Shirley prints out all my stories so the ladies who are not on internet can read them too.

So Katanning, their hometown, has been a place on my map I knew I would get to at some stage.

When I arrived in town and walked into a random shop to ask if they happen to know Shirley I was surprised when the reply came as; “Yes, she is my mum.” Out of 3500 people I picked her son to ask.

It’s been the warmest welcome I’ve ever had.

I have stayed with all three of my ‘grannies’ and they introduced me to just about every single person in town and even put me in the newspaper!

They took me down to the largest sheep-sale-yards in Western Australia.

I have visited two primary schools so must have talked to nearly ALL the children in Katanning (there is three primary schools)

We had a great time at the all-ages-playground and got all dressed up and ready to party on St Patrick day when we found out we were the only ones in the pub… But we made our own party

From here I will slowly make my way back towards Perth were, at the end of this month, I will welcome Mum & Dad to Australia!

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Posted in Australia | Tagged adventure, country, cows, cycling, farm | 12 Comments »

a Harvest Holiday

December 17, 2009

I’ve had a great time riding around on my beautiful big red tractor.
With 485hp and 3,5 meter high it’s easily the biggest thing I’m ever likely to drive.
And, over the past six weeks collecting roughly 15.000 ton grain, I’ve made a good amount of money doing so. A nice side-effect….

There’s few things you must think about when operating a machine this size.
First of all, and obvious, don’t hit anything. I’m a 20 ton tractor with a 30-ton trailer, if you hit something it’s not likely to survive… I’ve managed that one alright,
Another rule is not to drive into the crop. Ever. I’ve managed to stick to that one too.

Farmers can do everything right, but if the weather doesn’t help they’re pretty much buggered.
Like when it starts raining during harvest.
The moist-level in the grain is a measure you have to take notice of. When it gets too high you need to stop working.

It’s a beautiful sight to see the dark clouds rolling in over the paddocks, with lightning and thunder… that’s another problem though. If lightning strikes on dry land a fire is easily started.
Every farm has to have a fire-fighter car in the corner of the paddock they’re working in. And when a fire is detected everybody has to stop work, ‘cause if another fire starts there will be real trouble.
All surrounding farms will send their fire-fighters to the blaze and try to control it. It’s a real threat so while working you keep an eye on the horizons for smoke.

It’s a good job; actually it’s a great job! I’ve spend up to 90 hours a week in my comfortable cabin where I’ve got all possible luxuries, from air con to a DVD player. It’s truly glorious.
Funny how you spend a lot of time working with a few people, but you never actually see them outside the machines. Apart from 1st thing in the morning and last thing at night…

I am staying in Tony’s and Judy’s house, the farmer and his wife. They’ve been like a mum and dad to me while here. They’ve got 4 kids of which the three sons work out here on the farm. Daniel and Tim both live on the property with their own families while Jerome, the youngest, comes home for the busy times and has been travelling the world over the past 5 years.
Then there is Barry, Tony’s 73 year old uncle who operates the other chaser bin and Connor, on the header, a 18 year old English lad who’s just over for the harvest and will go straight back home when we finish.

My job is to chase the boys around the paddock and offload them before their headers overflow.
We’ve got a bunch of guys carting the grain to Geraldton in Road trains.
Mike and John come in most regularly.

On one of the rare days off John figured I should see a bit of the area. So we took his car and cruised up the ‘Batavia-coast’ towards Kalbarri. A very scenic drive passing some peculiar pink lakes, beautiful windy coast roads, and cliffs. Climbing up a hill to have a look at this statue of a man on a bike we got a bit stuck in spider webs… lucky they weren’t dangerous ones…. (the spiders, obviously the webs weren’t)

John had told me he got me a birthday present, but I needed to come to Geraldton to get it…
So after work on the 8th I hopped onto his truck and off we went.

I happened to have the Best birthday Ever.
Better than cycling in pouring rain in Indonesia (29th).
Better even than sharing pizza with 14 strangers including a Buddhist monk in Kathmandu.. (28th)
Better than building a snow-lady in Sweden …(26th) Although the bicycle-birthday cake I got there deserves a mention…
Better than getting my hair & make-up done and be all pretty and girly in Derry (25th).
Better than hiking across Spain (24th) and most definitely better than sitting around on an airport (23th) or living in a closet in Edinburg (22nd) …

It might be because it was my first birthday in summer, or it might be because John took me to the airport and in a tiny little plane we took off to the Abrolhos islands. It was a beautiful trip and from the air you see all the coral reefs and small islands where fishermen and pearl farmers are trying to make a life in harsh but pretty surroundings.
We could even see dolphins from the air!

It also happens to be the exact spot where the 1st Europeans set foot on Australian soil back in 1629 when the Dutch VOC-ship the ‘Batavia’ hit the reef and sank, leaving the passengers and crew stuck on those desolated islands where they stayed and survived till some of the crew rowed to Indonesia to get help. Most were brutally murdered, but some survived and made their way to Indonesia and eventually back home. Some were punished for their crimes and either hanged or let loose on the mainland. Where, so the story goes, they might have mingled with local aboriginals. From the 341 people who set sail from Holland only 77 survived…
A small fort still stand on the island these days and I flew right over the top to see the first European building in Australia. I find it funny to think that the first people here were Dutch and at least for this one day, the last one was too….

Then we spent half a day snorkelling around the Island and after my first worry to encounter sharks or other deadly creatures that live in Australian waters I thoroughly enjoyed watching the little (and not so little) fish, sea-cucumbers and stars and even a stingray. I stayed well clear of that one… we all know what happened to Aussie legend Steve Irwin….

Back on the picture perfect white beach our pilot/tour guide set up a table full of rolls, fresh salads and seafood. Even a bottle of champagne wasn’t missing! Wow! Happy birthday to me

After a stroll around the island where it kept amazing me how people could’ve survived with the lack of fresh water and… well anything really. I did spot 3 of the small wallabies that inhabit the island and have done so forever, they were a food source for those first shipwreck-survivors as well.

On the way back to the farm there was a bit of a hold up as half the country seemed to be burning, we’d already seen the fires and the smoke from the plane.
After some time and with a police escort we were taken down the road where the glowing trees and burning fences were quiet a spectacular and rather Christmassy sight.
Shame it does so much damage…. 3.000 hectares just went up in flames in no time at all…

Now I’m 30 and since there seems to be no signs of settling down mum & dad gave up hope of me ever walking down the aisle. So instead of buying me a wedding gown, like they did for my sister, they decided to give me the money.. That means I can keep cycling an extra half-year at least with the rate I’m spending! Hurray!

I’ve got another job lined up straight after harvest, its back with the crew I worked with just before I landed myself on the tractor.
Tarping.

It means getting up around midnight to go and cover the grain in bulkheads. It’s hard work and the reason we do it at night is it’s cooler than the 40 degrees it reaches during the day. Also the wind settles down a little. Last year a guy died when the tarp he was working with took off and sent him flying…
Wading knee-deep through grain while dragging a 360kg tarp with 5 others is fairly heavy. That’s a good thing after sitting still on the tractor where I seemed to expand at an alarming rate…

Can hardly wait to get back on two wheels.
It will probably be just after new years.

So for now I wish you all a merry Christmas.
We’ll see what the New Year will bring.

-xxx-

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