BFF-Kai and Salom

Best Friends Forever - Kai and Salom

It was my great good fortune recently to spend some time with two gorgeous young ladies of barely more than twenty summers. For a person of my vintage that is an occurrence that borders on the miraculous. There are reasons that this came to pass but they need not be explained here.

The venue was Siem Reap, Cambodia. Siem Reap is the gateway to the wondrous temples of Angkor, the architectural and religious extravaganza of the ancient Khmer empire of Cambodia. Tourists in their thousands flock to the temples each year.

Let me introduce the young ladies - Kai and Salom. They have been best friends since early childhood in the village of Sra Srang, right by the ancient Buddhist monastery of Banteay Kdei and not far from Siem Reap. Kai still lives in the village and sells guide books to tourists. Salom works in a travel shop in Siem Reap and sleeps in town during the week. For my few days in the region they became my ‘guides’ to the temples.

Salom has the sweetest, gentlest nature that it is possible to imagine. Softly spoken with a slow, shy smile. But there is a quick impish sense of humour that brings a crinkle to her eyes and an accompanying easy grin. When she recalls some humorous incident she will laugh quietly and joyously at some treasured moment. But there is strength behind the sweetness. Beware!, any young man who would try to take advantage of her good nature.

Kai has a smile that lights up the sky. She smiles often, she laughs often. Kai is outgoing, she has presence, she has style, and she knows it. She is prominent in her community of friends, always with some humorous banter that brings forth her easy laugh. But it is not always so. Kai is perhaps most beautiful when she is quiet, when her lovely dark eyes are restful and she is pondering the problems of her present and her future.

For problems there are, for both these young ladies. Cambodia is poor. Only half a lifetime ago a period of madness brought about the total impoverishment of the country with the death of probably two million, including all of the educated and skilled people. Most Cambodians now must eke out a living somehow. Both Kai and Salom work long hours for little pay. As well they attend English language classes and computer classes. They do not find it easy to find time for study. Because of lack of family money, neither was able to fully complete their school education. As they struggle to better their lives and contribute to their family welfare they come up against the barrier of lack of opportunity. There are simply not enough jobs available for intelligent young people like Kai and Salom trying to better their situation in life.

For myself, I found it very confronting to meet and appreciate two lovely intelligent people who face problems that I have never had to face. A solution is far beyond my capacity and so is the ability to assist much in any meaningful way.

For some little comfort I carry away and treasure the experience of sharing one day with them when they drew such joy from each others company.

They declare themselves to be ‘BFF’ - Best Friends Forever. I sincerely hope that comes to pass.

Second Corner: West

Second Corner: West

Somewhat belatedly, it is time that I reported on the accomplishment of visiting the western most point of Australia, the second cardinal point of my 4CornerS,W,N,E expedition. Steep Point is located at 113 degrees east longitude and 26 degrees south latitude. Steep Point is part of the Shark Bay World Heritage Area, a place of unspoiled beauty with abundant marine life in the extensive waters of the bay, a stark arid coastline, and the unique stromatolites of the Hamelin Pool.

The manner of locomotion will be quite different to southernmost Wilsons Promontory which required a three day bushwalk. This time a one hour scenic flight from the nearby township of Denham seems the best option. It is possible to drive to Steep Point with a properly equipped 4 wheel drive vehicle, which I don't have. The road distance from Denham is about 250kms, much of it over rough dirt track, and some of it over sandhills requiring tyres to be deflated. Steep Point is remote and totally natural, the usual visitors are the keenest of fishermen. All of this seems too hard, the attraction of a scenic flight is overwhelming. Additionally, in remote parts of Australia the view from the air is often the most dramatic and visually spectacular.

For much of Western Australia fine weather can be guaranteed and so it was brilliant sunshine at 9am, the time chosen for our flight. Fellow passengers aboad are Margaret, and Oliver of Otterburn the globetrotting sheep from Northumberland. The plane is a small four seater from the Shark Bay Air Charter company.

Words are really totally inferior to pictures to describe this hour. Much of the time is spent looking over the beautiful blue waters of Shark Bay. This bay is unusual in the extent of the sea grass beds. These beds are dark green in colour and contrast magnificently with the stark white sand close to the shore line. As well there is the blindingly white evaporation ponds of the Useless Loop salt processing works with a little 'mountain' of salt piled up at the end of a jetty, awaiting shipment to Japan.

Flying westwards we intersect with the coast line at the spectacularly vertical Zuytdorp Cliffs. So named because of the Dutch East Indies merchant vessel "Zuytdorp" wrecked on these cliffs in 1712. En route to Batavia this ship met the same fate as a number of other Dutch ships which crashed into the land mass of New Holland. Without a method of calculating longitude they were completely vulnerable if blown near land in the course of the dark night hours. The story of the recovery of the Zuytdorp wreck is fascinating, but there is no space here to tell it.

Just to the north is Steep Point itself. Again, there are rugged cliffs at the end of a long northward pointing promontory separating the rough waters of the Indian Ocean from the placid waters of Shark Bay. The terrain itself is largely scrubby and featureless with a few vehicular tracks meandering along. Its one outstanding characteristic is its westness, there is no other spot in the continent quite like it.

A short distance across a channel is Dirk Hartog Island and we fly along and across this sandy island. It is a place of some significance to me. I recall it from the first lesson in my fourth class History text book, in particular I recall the picture of Dirk Hartog's Pewter Dish. Dirk Hartog was the master of the Dutch East Indies vessel "Eendracht", en route to Batavia for a cargo of spices to take back to the Netherlands. In 1616 he decided to land on this part of the coastline of New Holland, he was the first of the Dutch navigators to do so. He spent three days exploring in the vicinity but found little that was of interest to the Dutch East India Company. To record his visit, he flattened a pewter dish, inscribed some details of his voyage, and nailed it to a tree. It was the first European object placed on the Australian continent. It remained for eighty years until removed (and replaced by another) by a later Dutch navigator, Willem de Vlamingh. The pewter dish is now in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam and I have seen it there. So I derive quite some pleasure from seeing this scrubby place which I can think of as the first spark of a lifelong interest in the history of Australia.

From this point our flight takes us in an easterly direction across the waters of Shark Bay and back to the airstrip at Denham. It is visually beautiful - the varying patterns of the sea grass beds, the meandering deeper channels through the shallow areas of white sand, the clear blue waters, the occasional small boat - a scene to remain in the memory for a long time.

We find ourselves back on Terra Firma. The western "corner" can be ticked. It is at this point, for a variety of reasons, that I decide to suspend my expedition. Hopefully, next year, I will resume the journey and set about getting myself to the northern and eastern points of the continent. We shall see what we shall see.

Kojonup & Kokoda

Kojonup & Kokoda

One of the good things about travelling in Australia is the opportunity to poke about in the country towns. Each of them, big or small, has a story to tell. For the most part there is a local museum where there will be photos, documents and implements that trace the path from initial settlement, then gradually increasing agricultural and civic progress. There will be stories of influential citizens, the ordinary life of the ordinary people, the impact on the landscape, the way of life of the prior aboriginal inhabitants.

The small country town of Kojonup is south of Perth in WA, on the road to Albany. Here you will find the Kodja Place Visitors Centre. It tells in a vital, vivid, human and sometimes confronting manner the Kojonup story and the influences, cultural, economic and geographic, that formed the Kojonup of today. This is one of the better regional displays that I have come across.

However it is the memorial in the adjacent park that catches my eye. It is a memorial to Brigadier Arnold Potts and to the Kokoda Track campaign of World War II. I don't know where to place the blame but it is a sad fact that national recognition of the Kokoda story has only occurred in the past few years. There has been an excellent film, and there has been published at least three books on the campaign - by Patrick Lindsay, Paul Ham, Peter Fitzsimons - each is good, Paul Ham's is probably the best. A mini travel industry has started to assist people to 'walk the Kokoda Track' and these people must be super fit to cope with the physical hardship involved. But why has it taken so long for this recognition? There are many veterans of that campaign who have died in the meantime. Why have we spent our time at the cinema 'Saving Private Ryan' when we have our own military heroes to honour?   

I would like to think that every Australian becomes well acquainted with the details of the Kokoda story. It is not for nothing that ex-PM Paul Keating considers that it should be rated above Gallipoli in its significance to the history of the nation. The courage and fortitude of the troops was the same in each case but Kokoda was a victory not a defeat, and the cause was the defence of the homeland not the invasion of another land in  a byway of an imperial conflict.

Why the memorial in Kojonup? For only one reason, Brigadier Arnold Potts was a local farmer. It is right and proper that he is honoured in his local community, it is disgraceful that he and his soldiers are not more widely honoured throughout the nation. There were other outstanding commanders at Kokoda but it was Brigadier Potts who lead the fighting withdrawal that slowed the initial advances of the Japanese army. This action was crucial in buying sufficient time for reinforcing troops to be brought in. His action was all the more credit worthy because he blatantly defied the orders of his deskbound superiors to attack! attack! because he knew that such a course would lead to the annihilation of his troops. For this he was recalled to Port Moresby and dismissed from his command by General Sir Thomas Blamey, the Australian army commander. It was this same General Blamey that addressed the troops of the 21st Brigade on  the parade ground at Koitaki near Port Moresby. Infamously he accused these brave men of 'running like rabbits' - the men who had fought and died in the desperate actions to delay the Japanese. So both Brigadier Arnold Potts and his men were the victims of a gross injustice. Blamey was forever after detested by the ordinary soldier and his name attracts no credit worthy mention these days.

At any rate I was surprised and pleased to see this Kokoda Memorial in Kojonup. I  wish that more people would stop to see it and to recognise its significance. Closer to my home, I wish that more people would visit the excellent Kokoda Memorial Track at Bray's Bay near Rhodes in Sydney.

The men of Kokoda will forever deserve the gratitude and veneration of the nation.
 
LEST WE FORGET!

Double-ewe-ay and alphabet reform

Double-ewe-ay and alphabet reform
Over here in the great state of double-ewe-ay I wonder why hardly anybody can bring themselves to say western australia. But the truth of the matter is that, ninety five times out of a hundred, double-ewe-ay is what you will hear. Perhaps it is a syllable too far because their stately neighbours have no problem saying south australia and absolutely never say ess-ay.

So my ears are having to cope with hearing double-ewe far more often than normally and I find it an ugly sound. Many millions of man hours are lost each day across the planet by people who are forced to say double-ewe double-ewe double-ewe dot. Three syllables is a lot for the name of one letter of the alphabet.

So we need some alphabet reform. Not difficult stuff like catering for each of the forty different sounds of the English language with forty different letters. Or eliminating the letter c which is used for two sounds while these sounds are already available from letters s and k.

But reform of the names of the letters is easier, quite easy really.

Double-ewe has to go. For a start it is visually a double-vee and it has no relationship with its associated sound. The letter aitch also has no sound association and the people who say haitch should probably be congratulated.

If a couple of ridiculous names of letters are to be changed why not tidy up the names of all the letters.

For all the consonants why not follow the example of the letter b - the sound associated with the letter followed by ee. There is a difficulty with the letters c j and s and we will just have to live with that.

So, lets look at the new names of the letters of the alphabet

ay
bee
see
dee
eee
fee
gee - soft g as in generous
hee
i
jay
kee
lee
mee
nee
o
pee
queue
ree
ess
tee
u
vee
wee
exx
yee
zee

There you are - say them through out loud a few times - it will just roll off your tongue.

Kits will be sent to all schools across the land and the official changeover will be sometime next month.



Just a thought - but Westralia would be a much better name for the state of Double-ewe Ay.

the WAussies

Coming to you from Perth in Western Australia.


Over here the WAussies live in Paradise. It is fine and sunny every day, it never rains. WAussies all live in big houses, they all have fine cars, they all have a boat. The public amenities are first class - good transport - good parks - nice and clean - work going on everywhere. It must come from the royalties that they derive from the mining boom.

I remember that Kevvie though that it would be a good idea if all Australians, not just the WAussies shared in these benefits and he proposed a tax on mining profits. But the BigMiningBoys whinged and moaned and said that this would cut the dividends to their overseas shareholders and anyway they would take their buckets and spades and go and dig up another country. Then BigEars said 'I OPPOSE the mining profits tax because I OPPOSE EVERYTHING' and his radio mates yelled and shouted and the people became very confused. Then Kevvie got shot down in flames and RedJulie said to the BigMiningBoys 'if you let me keep the mining profits tax I will make it only a small one'.

And so it was done.

So the WAussies are smiling in their Paradise.

As for the rest of the Aussies,,,, thank you BigEars,,, thanks for everything.

Matthew Flinders and arid Australia

Port Augusta sits right at the head of Spencer Gulf in South Australia. It labels itself as “The Crossroads of Australia” because the two trans-continental trains - The “Indian-Pacific” and the “Ghan” both pass through Port Augusta.

Matthew Flinders was the first European to come to this place, in March 1802. He had been commissioned by the British Government to chart the coastline of Australia and had commenced the task at Cape Leeuwin, sailing and charting eastwards from that point. His ship was the “Investigator” which proved to be a leaky tub that eventually failed him completely in northern Australia.

As he pushed northwards up the waterway which he eventually called Spencer Gulf he was open to the thought that he might discover a strait which divided the continent in two, or perhaps that he would find the mouth of a large river. By the time he reached the vicinity of now Port Augusta the gulf was a narrow mangrove walled waterway that was obviously about to peter out totally.

He climbed a spectacularly red bank where there is a memorial marker today. From that position he could see around the compass. To the west some flat topped hills, to the north east a contorted range of hills which we now know as part of the Flinders Ranges, to the south the waters that he had just sailed.

So, there was no strait splitting the country and there was no grand river. Instead the country was dry and supported only sparse scrubby vegetation. That continues to be so today. It is only because of piped Murray River water that Port Augusta has some green grass and some shade trees.

It occurs to me that Matthew Flinders was the first of many explorers to penetrate into the dry heart of arid Australia and be disappointed by the country that was found. He is dramatically unique in that he came by sea -  no horses or camels for him. And he was first by a long way. It would be eleven more years before Blaxland, Lawson and Wentworth showed the way over the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. Then many more years before Edward John Eyre, Charles Sturt, John McDouall Stuart, Burke & Wills ventured forth with hopes of discovering splendid grasslands and found only scrub and despair.

Matthew Flinders, of course, sailed on to find his own servings of bitter despair. Detained for years in French Mauritius, then dead at the age of forty on the very day of the publication of his charts of Terra Australis. He is a towering figure of Australian history, a great man by any measure, his story is fascinating.

For those interested there is an  excellent recent book, "The Water Dreamers" by Michael Cathcart which deals with the history of the attempts of Australians to relate to their dry continent. For Matthew Flinders there are at least two good biographies.

henley beach and tim flannery

About midday Sunday, Henley Beach, Adelaide. The air is warm and not too hot. The sea is brilliant blue, the sky a little paler. Little boys socialise in a beachy puddle. Bigger boys play beach cricket. A strangely lone dolphin noses around the jetty, squooshes out his exhaust air, wiggles his tail, and is gone. There are al fresco diners at every restaurant, contentedly chatting while enjoying this ambience and filling their bellies.
This is a picture of peaceful plenty in a favoured land. In the long journey of humankind there has never been such a period of material prosperity. Look around the sky, there is not a cloud to be seen.

And yet, and yet. Simultaneously, and on the same day, I finish reading Tim Flannery’s latest book, ‘Here on Earth’. Once again this scientist, humanist, gentle man has managed to put in simple terms the many many facts and opinions that play upon the situation of this planet and its dominant inhabitants.
In his final sentence Tim says this -
“But I am certain of one thing - if we do not strive to love one another, and to love our planet as much as we love ourselves, then no further progress is possible here on Earth”.
Tim sees more than a cloud in the sky, he sees a potential thunderstorm.

He is, of course, but one of the army of scientists who have been issuing warnings about global warming for the past thirty years. For the same period the posturing politicians have been shameless in the ways in which they have ducked and dodged to avoid the biggest issue that faces the planet. There has been no Churchill rallying the people to action despite sacrifices that will be involved. Instead we are told by conservatives that nothing must be done that might put up the price of electricity.

There may be a Churchill in the future, and there will need to be more than one. But, as with Churchill in 1940, a crisis will actually have to occur before the wilfully ignorant people of this Earth wake up to the many warnings they have been given. “Why weren’t we told” they will bellow.

The Coorong and Murray Mouth

For the past couple of days I have been poking around in a strange and interesting part of the country. This is the Coorong and the lower lakes of the Murray.

Driving up from the south it is the Coorong that is first encountered. It is a long (140kms) thin saltwater lagoon, sheltered for its entire length from the sea by a narrow sand dune. It has always been subject to variations in its water level, depending on the flow of water down the Murray river. In periods of drought the water level in the Coorong and the lower lakes (Lakes Alexandrina and Albert) drop naturally. In the last several years of drought the water level has been disastrously low. This has been exacerbated by the over-drawing of water for agricultural purposes throughout the Murray-Darling basin.

Now these waterways are full and this has occurred because of the widespread flooding in this past year in much of the catchment area. Water is now flowing through the Murray mouth into the sea. For several years dredging has been needed to keep the mouth from silting up entirely but that is not required at the moment. People here that I talk to are well pleased that the water is back. The question is: for how long?

To my mind the first priority for the river waters should be to keep the lower lakes full, the riverside forests healthy, the wetlands safe for nesting birdlife. But of course, that is not the way it is. The politicians, bureaucrats and agriculturists have succeeded in putting agricultural demands first. In the case of the cotton irrigators it has been said that “we are selling out the environment in the cause of cheap T-shirts” - there is a lot of truth in that. For those interested, there is a really good recent book - ‘The River’, author Chris Hammer - it is non-judgmental but raises all the issues. It probably should be compulsory reading for city-dwelling Australians. This is an issue that affects us all.

A good thing about travel, it makes you think.

Getting back to the Coorong. Most people drive by and dismiss the area as scrubland. But, if you stop and look around there are really beautiful mixes of colour and form in the vegetation and the strange salty lagoons of water coloured pink. So here are a couple of pictures

First Corner: South

First Corner: South
Well blogsters, a fortnight has passed since the grandly named 4CornerS,W,N,E expedition blasted out of the starting blocks. That seems an apposite sort of period to send in this first report.

Very briefly, the aim of my expedition is to travel around mainland Australia, seeing what comes my way. To ensure that no corners are cut the southern, western, northern and eastern points of the continent will be visited.

For the initial stage of the journey I am very fortunate to have the company of Peter Howlett, a good friend of many years, a former Melbournian, and with a good knowledge of Wilsons Promontory. For the lighthouse on the southern tip of Wilsons Promontory is my first goal. There is no vehicle access, only a twenty kilometres walking trail.

Wilsons Promontory is often buffetted by blustery winds blasting in from Bass Strait, and that is exactly the weather that prevails as we set off from the Telegraph Saddle carpark about 8:15am one morning. Neither of us has done any bushwalking with backpacks for some years so there is some apprehension as to how we will go.

The early going is very easy, down a long slope and the track is vehicle width, this is the fire access road that runs almost to the lighthouse. Then there is a long easy flat stretch and in just under two hours we have covered the 7.5kms to the Halfway Hut. All good things come to an end and the next stretch is uphill and the weight of a backpack becomes obvious to me. We are at the Roaring Meg campsite before 12noon and here we have lunch and a spell - we are still going very well and have covered 13kms of the required 20kms. We continue on, the first view of the lighthouse complex on the rocky promontory is dramatic. We see it from quite high up. The wind is pushing the seas heavily westward through Bass Strait, crashing onto the rocky bastion and also crashing against a big ship pushing around the promontory, heading for Port Philip. It is about 2pm and we stay here for quite a while, just enjoying the scene, and enjoying the sense of accomplishment.

At the lighthouse we stay in very pleasant accommodation - formerly the house of a lighthousekeeper‘s family. For company there are people from Melbourne and an extraordinary couple from Germany - well travelled, hugely knowledgable in many areas, and good natured to go with it.

So, I sleep this night at 39.12907 degrees south latitude and 146.42421 east longitude - that is the furthest south point of mainland Australia ( rejecting the arguments of pedants who will claim a closeby point, but that doesn’t count as it doesn’t have a lighthouse).

For the next day we must climb up to about 300 metres, lovely views on this stretch back over the lighthouse, thankfully the wind has abated and the sea is much calmer. We then drop down to beautiful Waterloo Bay, a long stretch of pure white sand backed by wetlands. We camp the night just over the hill at Little Waterloo Bay. Sadly campfires are now banned in many places. There are good reasons for this but it does detract markedly from the bushwalking experience as I knew it in previous times.

On the third and final day we must walk about ten kilometres and that is about far enough for me. I need a few spells on the final pull up to the carpark at Telegraph Saddle. Peter has travelled remarkably well, says he is a bit stiff, but doesn’t show it.

So the job is done - the South corner can be ticked.

Fashion Note: Raymond was exclusively outfitted by Pierre Cardigan of Paris. All garments were carefully chosen from the exhilarating 2011 collection of stylish designer wear for the outdoor adventurer.

toby

Toby is my grandson, my first grandchild.
There is something absolutely joyous in seeing a new healthy youngster just beginning the wondrous adventure of life. He will start with the enormous benefit of caring, intelligent parents and he will live in a prosperous peaceful community. Even so early he is inquisitive and energetic.
I so much look forward to seeing him develop and grow.
If only I could be confident that his generation will treat this world with the foresight and respect that has been so terribly lacking to this point in time.

Great news - today, he now has his first tooth.

Raison d'etre

Everything needs a raison d’etre, I don’t know why this is so, but it is.

So I will have a blog, and be a blogger.

It is not principally so that my wit and wisdom can explode on a weary world. Rather I hope that it will carry some tales from an adventure that I am planning to undertake. Like Matthew Flinders I hope to circumnavigate the continent of Australia. Unlike Matthew Flinders this will be a road trip. Leaving from Sydney, I plan to proceed in a clockwise direction. So as not to cut any corners I intend to visit the cardinal points of the compass - the southerly, westerly, northerly and easterly points of mainland Australia. I have codenamed the trip - 4CornerS,W,N,E.

I will be travelling predominantly, but not completely, solo. I consider that there are many interesting and convivial people in this big land, it is merely my task to find some. As travel mascot I will have Oliver of Otterburn, he is a Northumbrian Black Faced Sheep who is travelling the globe,  more will be heard of Oliver.

My vehicle will be a 1998 Subaru Forester, a sturdy reliable vehicle that I have much enjoyed driving. It has travelled 192,000kms to this stage of its life, and has many more kms left in it. I will carry a 9’x9’ tent but will be quite happy to hire more salubrious accommodation along the way.

So there we have it - a raison d’etre.