Catch up

Stuff in Sydney

We had a really good day today. We headed up to the Domain, by the Art Gallery and botanical gardens,  found car parking for a cheap flat rate fee, then headed off on foot for the city. 

First stop though was Speakers Corner, apparently moved here from Speakers Corner in Hyde Park ( the Sydney version), set up to do the same thing as the original in London. However, there was nobody there, and even when we  came back several hours later, there was still only one bloke standing on a box, talking to himself. Maybe nobody had anything to say, although I very much doubt it. 

I was a bit disappointed because its the impromptu nature of the soap box brigade that makes places like this, well at least in London. Although many of the speakers do it regularly and their words are really show, the hecklers are always new, and so its all very reactive and quick witted. And the crowd is as interesting as the speakers. But not here; this crowd consisted of three birds; a pigeon, a myna bird and an Ibis, and they were distracted, arguing over cake crumbs.

The pigeon had got bored and  wandered off

The Domain and Mrs McQuarrie’s Chair over look the harbour and the Navy Yard, so we headed down to the waterfront and followed it round towards the Bridge. 

Pinchgut Island, ( which I think is now called Fort Denison) lies out in the middle. A funny old name, derived from prisoners being sent out there as punishment on punishment rations.

The screens and frameworks left over from the NY fireworks were still up, and much of the waterfront was shut off but set up for various forthcoming events.

After a quick detour up through the gardens, we popped out on the waterfront again, right next to the Opera House. 

I thought it looked a bit grey instead of its iconic white, but they are doing some work on it, so maybe that’s the cause; dust and crap in the air. Or maybe its just not as white as I remembered it.

And a pretty impressive mural opposite it too. 

The Oosterdam ship was in port too, anchored at circular Quay,but due to leave later that evening. As we wandered, passengers arrived with piles of cases. There was loads of stuff going up that gangplank. I suppose you need it too if you go on cruise - outfits for this and that. Not my thing but that’s their choice and good luck to them. I guess I’ve just got used to travelling light, all my worldly possessions fitting into two small panniers. But it is nice once in a while to have a choice of what to wear, and even better, when its something not covered in dust.

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The lucky pig....rubbing his snout apparently brings luck. Looks like a few people have tried rubbing something else too ( bottom left)

We wandered back through The Rocks, and I didn’t recognise any of it, despite having spent quite a bit of time there in years gone by. But to be fair, it was a long time ago, and the area is now substantially poshed up, once for the 2000 Olympics, and then just because it has been.

Not sure what this was about though, but it amused me. And right on Circular Quay too.

Sometimes, things work out very well, and today was no exception. As usual, we had a couple of jobs to do at various places in the city, and they worked out perfectly. 

After a quick stop to pick up some stuff, we went over to Hornsby see Gary and Sue, whom we had met at the Snowy Ride in Thredbo, back in November. They are nice people, and it was good to see them again. 

On the way back, we stopped off at Nadine’s cousin/aunt. That was a nice little interlude, particularly as she her five lively children were there, eager to show us what they had had for Christmas, the spiders in the garden, the field where the snakes live, and the local train to Sydney which stops just beyond the end of their garden.

Back to Port

We had left the bikes in Port while we nipped down to Sydney, which was a great move as we were able to get around and collect stuff in the car, which would not have been possible on the bikes.

One of the jobs that we needed to do was to stop by the Thermarest supplier in Artarmon,  and get new mats for our beds. We all use camping cots which were originally made by Ultralite, but then bought out by Thermarest. They are great bits of kit, and Nadine and I have used ours extensively, down through Africa, across Europe, and across Asia. But the seams were beginning to split ( and no, not because we are too heavy!) and Thermarest kindly agreed to honour Ultralite’s lifetime warranty. So we picked them up, gave them a bit of feedback re wear patterns for their R&D people, then drove up to the National Motorcycle Museum at Nabiac, not far from Taree.

That was a very cool museum, packed full of all sorts of bikes, most dating back to the early 1900s, with an old Daimler from the 1890s. 

How not to camp off a bike....although there is one person we know who tried to cram almost as much on a postie bike, including two cast iron pots and a full set of cutlery, including steak knives.

 We had a good look round.... under the watchful eye of Bella the super hound, kept lean and mean to sort out difficult visitors. We behaved.

The fruit bats were out in force last night, after the palm fruit in the adjacent trees. I’d never seen them close up, nor heard them. They are big , the size of a crow, and just like most other Australian wildlife, bloody noisy. They woke me at about 0430 too, rowing with some kookaburras over nest space or something. I don’t know.

Kempsey yet again

I had to get my leg fixed again today ( the major fixing was last week) so rode to Kempsey with Nadine who was going back to her parent’s house. However,it pelted down with rain during the night and was still having a go this morning. Consequently, the dirt road was quite pleasant to ride, dust clouds having been replaced by puddles. So my jacket stayed clean but my riding pants, clean again only last week, are now grey/brown again, being caked in ginger dust. Oh well. Had I been worried about that sort of thing, I’d have gone on a cruise.

For some of the way, we were paced by a young roo, hopping parallel to us about 100 metres to our left. He stayed with us for a while and was keeping up easily. Or most probably, it was us just about keeping up with him.

While we were in Kempsey, Gordon got his clutch fixed. The courtesy bike which they had promised him was no longer available, so he ended up with a Yammie TDM 900 instead. Unfortunately for him, the clutch job didnt take as long as he’d expected so he only got to ride it for a short while.

Nadine and I managed to do some jobs which had been outstanding for a while, including printing some forms at the library. but how complicated was that? Swipe this, load that, press her, wait this long. It went on and on but the lady was nice and helped us. And all for a couple of forms which we couldn’t then fill in because some of the information we needed was missing. 

Then it was time for us to go our separate ways. She went to her Mum’s, while I rode back on the dirt road, which this time was much drier so my jacket got covered in dust anyway. I got back to the tent and new neighbours, and felt compelled to explain my filthy appearance. I don’t think they cared but at least I made the effort; an attempt at decorum never goes amiss, particularly as suspect that I have crossed the feral rubicon where wild hair and dusty clothes have become the norm.

I really don’t like this campsite but its been convenient for what we needed to do over the past few days. It’s all families in big camping outfits with every convenience known to man aboard, the outfit usually being parked up and packed up, save for this two weeks of kids summer holidays. Except the bloke next to us; he is a truckie and when he’s not a-trucking, he lives in his caravan. 

We're off up north tomorrow. Not too far, but we'll see how far we get.

Found the pics

Snake bite man....never did find out his name but he was a nice old bloke.

Snake bite man's fridge. Full of beer and ready meals. he told me he never used milk in tea or coffee because he couldn't fit it in.

 Cow hide wall paper at the Taylors Arm Pub

That bloody Lantana. pretty but a virulent weed

Posties go swimming. Our bikes at the swimming hole

Honda mailbox on dirt track

 The best mailbox yet.... 1980s microwave in brown and beige, which pings when you open it!

Guess who was riding at the back?

One of those plants that eats things, leaves and that sort of stuff. An epiphyte that grows on tree trunks. Cant remember what its called. Elk horn or stag horn or something.

A brown tree frog.... the frog is brown, not the tree.

Gordon's washing in a motel. All class.

Limited pics as I've 'misplaced 'my camera....will update them tomorrow

January 3rd.

We left the pub today to head back down to Crescent Head for the night. The plan was to take the dirt road across country from Burrapine to Bellbrook, but that proved to be too difficult. 

The dirt roads here are clearly marked, just as sealed roads are anywhere else, because they are actually part of the highway system. But then there are the rural tracks, which are still roads but are much harder to find as often - and as we discovered today - they look just like cart tracks and are frequently overgrown by Lantana. Lantana is an introduced plant that looks pretty but has become a bit of a bugger, taking over everything.

Anyway, after about 40 minutes on a marked dirt road and then up and down a track that petered out into nothing, Nadine spotted two wheel tracks disappearing into the bush, up a steep hill. And this was of course the track we were looking for. It was blazing hot too and shade was a bit on the stingy side, so it was a bit of an ordeal. But up the track we went and got quite a way into the bush before it got very steep. And then things got difficult.

All the bikes were laden, and Nadine’s and mine were coping, albeit only just. But Gordon’s clutch was slipping badly, and it just wasnt working out. There was no way he could go on, so we had to turn around and retrace our steps. All of them, right back to Taylors Arm and then onto Kempsey via the track we had come in on.

But its funny how your brain accommodates things. Having struggled a fair way up the bush track, which was gravel, dust, fallen trees, weeds, and bits of bark and branch, and difficult to ride on, the main dirt road which we had struggled up to get there in the first place, seemed almost luxurious by comparison, deep ruts, gravel dumps  and dodgy bends included.

So it took us most of the day to do just 60 kms, so we  stopped at the pub in Willawarrin for lunch, much to the amusement of a gang of blokes sitting in the shade. It was  exceptionally hot - they reckoned 40º - and we’d been riding on dirt for most of the day, sweating.....and our faces were a bit dirty. Ok, very dirty. But at least it gave them all a laugh.

We continued on to Kempsey, stocked up on some food, then rode on to Crescent Head to the wild camp we’d used before Christmas. Then we jumped in the Ocean, lots of lovely fresh, cool and clear water to wash the dust and sweat off.  But there was a bit of a rip going on down there, a strong undercurrent that drags you out to sea. The rips around Australia’s coast were recently declared number one natural danger, ahead of snakes and bushfires as people get so easily caught out by them. But we spotted it and were careful and we’re all still here, so it was ok.

We also managed to wash our filthy riding gear by standing in the shower with it on. Being an outside shower meant for washing salt water off, this amused nearby campers, but it worked, and our stuff was passable afterwards, if not pristine. 

One of the blokes camping at the same site warned us about dingoes in the adjacent bush, so were were careful to bag all our food up and stash it where they couldn’t get it. They’re not dangerous like bears, but will have a go if they can as they’re wild dogs. And after the dog incident the day before, I wasn’t too keen on a repetition with real wild ones. I hoped my tent would be dingo proof but slept with a large knife next to me, just incase.

It was very hot during the night, even with the tent windows and doors open ( but mesh closed; gotta make it hard for dingoes) How different from just a few weeks ago in Tasmania when it was bloody freezing and I wore every bit of clothing I had to bed, to last night, when I was hot in a silk liner with the tent open to the elements. I know which I prefer....

January 4th

We were up and out early this morning, thanks to the sun heating things up very quickly. We had a few jobs to do in Port MacQuarie which needed to be done before midday, and it was a 30 kms trek along another dirt road and a hop across the Hastings River on a ferry to get there.

And being a Saturday, and the last weekend of the Christmas break, we wanted to get along the dirt bit before much other traffic joined us and recovered us with dirt.

We have a few things to do in Sydney over the weekend, so hired a car to get there as its a six hour drive down the main highway, and of course the same back. And that would be a real old fag on the bikes. So we’re currently in Wahroonga, having just eaten curry and are watching TV - something we rarely do these days ( I never did very much anyway) I had a haircut too - Nadine and her Swiss army knife scissors. but its OK as it was oly trimming the back so i cant see it.

Back on the bikes today

Having spent yesterday doing nothing much and loving every minute of it because it was such a change, it was back to riding today, just incase we forgot how it went. Macksville is 28kms from Taylors Arm, and there are two ways there; the north bank and the south bank, ( of the Taylors Arm River, part of the Nambucca River catchment) both on dirt, with a bit of tarmac chucked in every once in a while.

We took the north bank first off, and took a wrong turn within about 2 kms, much to the delight of two ferocious cattle dogs with big fangs who came bounding out of a local property. The boy hound was definitely up for a fight, but the houndess didn’t seem too bothered, maybe because of the heat, or that she sensed that regardless of whomever won, they would both get a kick in the head.  So we escaped a good mauling with those mega fangs, turned round and found the correct road.

It was good dirt, if very dusty, but there were no incidents and we reached Macksville after about and hour. The river looked very inviting as a cool down and dust remover, but we needed food, so we found a cafe instead. It was even hotter in there but we were hungry so we stayed put.

The south bank route back to the pub was much quicker, and with less dirt. 

Quite a few bikers had arrived at the pub when we got back - a few on dirt bikes, a couple on cruisers and two on big adventure bikes. It was a bit like two wheeled commune.

Nadine and I went back to a swimming hole we’d spotted a few kms back towards Kempsey, when crossing a ropey old wooden bridge. 

We spent a couple of hours there in the cool water, washing off the day’s riding dust, chatting and again, doing nothing in particular. 

Then just as we walked back to the bikes, it started to rain. It was a bit of a half baked attempt though as it stopped almost as soon as it started.

There is an old bloke living at the pub in the room next to us. He’s a nice old fella, a retired miner, originally from St Helen’s in Lancashire. A top beer fan, he’s got some good stories, including one about when he got bitten by a brown snake ( not one you want to get bitten by if you can help it as their venom is often fatal). He shot it and  put it in a carrier bag before driving himself to hospital. But he stopped on route to buy eight beers for the trip, as he judged the drive would be about the same time as it would take him to drink them, which of course it did. The triage nurse in reception ( or the ‘triangle woman’ as he called her) was a bit snotty and questioned him about the snake, so he put the bag on the table. However, the snake was still alive and started wriggling, which made her scream and pandemonium broke out. He was admitted to shut him up, but didnt wake up for three days. Turns out he had so much alcohol in his system they though he would die if they did too much  to him, but somehow he survived and one of the doctors ended up writing a medical paper about him. And it clearly hadn’t put him off as he was still downing the beers, and reckons it works as he hasn’t been bitten by a snake since.

Happy New Year

So 2014 already. It doesn’t seem five minutes ago since it was 2000 and the millennium bug was set to exterminate the world.

We’re up at Taylors Arm at the Pub with no Beer, where the world really could have ended in a puff of cyber smoke all those years ago because I don’t think that anybody round here would either have noticed and certainly wouldn’t care, and the place wouldn’t have changed much if it had.

It’s an excellent place; a rural hostelry right with a few scattered houses, out in the middle of nowhere at the end of a rough dirt track through the bush, or a long sealed trek through not very much from the other direction, and made famous by country singer Slim Dusty, who sang the song about it.  However, the song - ‘ The Pub with No beer ‘ - was actually penned by his best mate, Gordon Parsons. 

There's even a transplanted church here,  now a museum full of beer cans. But they are arranged beer cans, so its ok.

We left Mungay Creek (Nadine’s parents place) yesterday afternoon to come up here. To our relief and a bit of surprise, the bikes rode very well after yesterday’s farkling. Its always a leap of faith to ride them the first time after working on them, because although we test ride to check stuff, its not like riding them for real and loaded. 

And  because the dirt road to Taylors Arm was a 4 x4 track rather than just unsealed but graded gravel, we so needed the bikes to work properly.

But it was OK and we had no issues. The track was quite steep in places and hardbaked as well as criss crossed by now dry water eroded channels, some of which made fairly substantial rutted traps for our skinny tyres. 

Descending is always worse on rough ground anyway, especially when the surface is loose as it was on this track, because the bike slides with its weight as well as speed. Whereas its easy enough to control sliding in a straight line, these ruts required much weaving about at slow speed, which which luggage, even on tiddlely little postie bikes, needed a bit of concentration. 

And that’s when I realised that I should have tightened my my back brake more than I had, as it was very loose and not very cooperative. Nadine’s was a bit on the dodgy side too, and Gordon’s clutch continued to slip, but we all made it, rubber side up, to Taylors Arm.

The main reason for coming here, apart from ticking the pub of the ‘must see’ list, was the New year’s eve party. What could be better than seeing the old year out and the new year in at a country pub with locals, well away from authority and regulation, and a live band playing a mixture of rock and country? And staying onsite for next to nothing? A good choice and a good evening.

It is weird though to think of London as still being in last year though, albeit for only a little while longer. Whilst there are obviously many time zones around the world, all working to their own agenda, London is a bit special, sitting on the zero meridian as it does and being the spot where world time is measured from. Its not really 2014 until the clock hands hit 12 midnight there and Big Ben boings its boings.

So this morning, having all slept very well, none of us are hungover and we’re just loafing around like you’re supposed to on public holidays. We’ve nothing particular to do other than wander down to a nearby swimming hole a bit later when the sun gets really hot. I even made the other two breakfast in bed, which was just a nice thing to do but should in no way be interpreted as any form of resolution.

Nope, it was just a one off because I’m nice, even if it was only a sandwich. So after eating, both of them stayed put and are now reading whilst I write and potter around.