A trip to Hackfalls arboretum should be fun and it was. The road was windy and we enjoyed a trip into the house go hills which took about an hour and a half. The sun shine and we enjoyed the alpine like scenery, forests, pasture and smallholdings.
We arrived at the arboretum and the sign at the entrance pointed to information on the left and the car park on the right, so we followed the road to the right and parked near the entrance being the only car there. We walked into the arboretum and spent a glorious hour looking at the various trees on display. There were several large specimens of trees from around the world and we enjoyed reading the aluminium labels. We left the tree collection and went back tot the information office to discover we should have gone there first and paid ten dollars each to go in. We felt honour bound to pay albeit that the general feeling was that it was very expensive for what was there.
We had a very pleasant lunch overlooking a lake and then set off for home turning to visit Doneraille park, in which we immediately encountered a dirt road. The park included a large river and parking and camping area and having looked at those we decided to follow the dirt road , having no idea where it went, there were no maps in the car. The scenery was fantastic, remote farms, high pastures beautiful riverside areasand fairly large hills. After about an hour of driving we arrived at a crossroads and found to our amazement that the right turn was the road to Hackfalls. There was much hilarity in the car as we just sat there and laughed for about five minutes.
The rest of the drive home was uneventful and we passed a pleasant evening before retiring to bed.

The drive up to Motu had been pre planned by Andy and Sally so that we might visit a Kiwi crèche and so after a leisurely breakfast we set our sails and headed North into the highlands. The drive was windy and beautiful taking about an hour through  some spectacular upland scenery. I am not sure you could call it mountainous but there were certainly some very high hills. The whole place is green and the countryside reeks of extinct volcanoes, small triangular peaks nestling beside each other, dotted with sheep or cattle, creating a picture that strikes a chord with the view of New Zealand we had when were at primary school.
I drove us up to Motu on the main north highway and we must have seen a total of about six cars in the whole hour. New Zealand is a joy to drive in and I have  to say I enjoyed driving.
At Motu, the cafe was shut, but as apart of our pre planning we had telephoned and Andy found the owner in her house. She was preparing the school dinners for the day and couldn't talk to us until these were out of the way. So we decided to drive a further five kilometres up a dirt road to go and look at Motu waterfalls.
The waterfalls were beautiful, a largish river in a narrow gorge dropping nine metres. It would have been more spectacular had there been a little more water in the river. It appears that Spring has been very dry here. The access to view the waterfalls was over a rickety suspension bridge about twenty metres above the river, the bridge moved so much that Sally had to persuade herself that she really wanted to cross.
Once across the bridge there was a section of u spoils New Zealand bush, which was worth seeing and Sally being something of a plant expert was able to name several species for us.
We the returned to Motu to the cafe where the owner opened up especially for us and made us coffee and a toasted cheese sandwich, normally the cafe is only open Friday Saturday and Sunday, so she made a special effort for us. Lunch over the owner then gave us a twenty minute talk on the habits of the Kiwi, which was very interesting before walking us about quarter of a mile to look at ten Kiwi crèche.
This little bird has so many predators that it is seriously under threat and suffers from the attentions of possums, stoats,rats, weasels and hedgehogs. All of these were species introduced to New Zealand by Europeans, so clearly we did Kiwis a great favour there.
The crèche is surrounded by a seven foot mental fence with a cat proof top, the fence is dug a metre into the ground and a metre out at ninety degrees to stop burrowing predators, the result is something like Guantanemo Bay prison without the guard towers and the searchlights. The door we entered by was a security type door with two doorways opening at ninety degree angles. We walked around the crèche which is full of native NZ plants and were impress d by the work the conservators have put in.
I had expected to see a Kiwi in a Kiwi Crèche but had of course forgotten entirely that these are nocturnal birds, so the nearest I came to a Kiwi was a stuffed one in the restaurant.
All of us agreed it was areal,y interesting trip and we made a contribution to Kiwi conservancy which made us feel all better.
The drive home was uneventful apart from a trip to the Sunshine brewery in Gisborne where we sampled ten beers an interesting experience and one that made us all laugh. I enjoyed three or four of the beers but the others in the party were not so keen.
We retired home for a pleasant meal and an early bedtime.

Tuesday and after a decent night's sleep,feeling refreshed , the tour manager and I were ready to take on the world. A quiet morning ensued whilst we chatted and caught up. Eventually we headed off into Gisborne and did a little shopping, Gisborne is a sprawling city on the east coast of the North Island which is attractive, as all cities are in parts.
We looked in Katmandhu for a puffa jacket for the tour manager but again she was unlucky, Katmandhu is rapidly becoming one of her least favourite shops. There are no high rise buildings in Gisborne and it feels in many ways very American, maybe all colonial cities have this feel?
The shops look pretty universal with several well known names as we continue into creating a global village.
After lunch we headed off to a beach some miles north of Gisborne where we sat and watched Andy fish. I have never seen the fascination with this particular hobby but he loves it and to be fair he caught two fish in his first two casts. The first was so small it was thrown back and the second was large enough for the cat's tea.
After a couple of hours in the beach we returned home for a family meal and a couple of bottles of wine. The sun had shone, the company was good and we had enjoyed our first full day in New Zealand.

Monday a day of travel with what looked like some impossible time intervals between flights did not encourage optimism in any way.
We arose at five forty five and we're ready to leave at seven ten, ten minutes behind schedule. The drive to Hobart airport was uneventful and Pam dropped us off , so that by seven thirty we were waiting in a queue at the Jet Star desk. Inside the airport the booking in for our flight was announced as ending in five minutes. In no time at all we were boarding and on our way to Sydney. We apparently had a five dollar voucher which purchased a cup and a half of coffee, two cups with an additional two dollars thrown in.
At Sydney we had to rush to retrieve our luggage and then find the terminal bus to take us from the domestic terminal to the international terminal. We found the bus stop with little difficulty and realised we had to purchase two six dollar tickets from a machine. The tour director fed a twenty dollar bill into the machine which gratefully digested it and returned neither tickets nor change.
As the bus had arrived the tour director decided to take it up with the bus driver who walked over to the machine and tried to retrieve our money. This proved impossible and he decided to take us on the bus without a ticket, probably a wise decision on his part looking at the look on the tour director's face.
In the International terminal we were faced with the airport shuffle again as we queued to get out of Australia and through immigration and security. The airport shuffle consists of joining a queue and then moving forward half a pace at a time, feeling great joy at moving a whole pace forward at any time. Eventually we got through with twenty minutes to spare, purchasing a bottle of scotch for Andy and then racing to the gate. Here we suddenly found that we a long distance from the gate and by the time we found it they were already boarding. One more we enjoyed the airport shuffle as we waited to board.
Our Air New Zealand flight to Auckland proved uneventful, our itinerary said there was no food service on this plane but this was wrong as we were given lunch, having already devoured two chocolate bars.
At Auckland we were once again forced into the airport shuffle as we collected our luggage and then had to get through bio security and immigration. Having got through this , we walked to the domestic terminal where we had thirty minutes to spare. The tour director raced us from one terminal to another and I was grateful we had the chance for a sit down.
At this point it was announced that the flight to Gisborne was delayed by thirty minutes so all we could do was sit and wait. The tour director was not amused.
Eventually forty five minutes late we boarded our last flight of the day and arrived in Gisborne to a family welcome at about eight fifteen. Rosemarie's brother and sister in law were there to meet us and whisked us home to a very pleasant buffet supper after which we collapsed into bed. All the worry and concern had been useless, all the flights had been met and we had arrived where we should have been albeit have a little late.

Our last day in Australia rose fine with Hobart glinting majestically across the Derwent. We spent some time looking at the view as small white clouds skidded across the mountain. We were a little. On earned as the wind rose and white tops appeared in th river as we had booked a trip on the Lady Nelson for an hour and a half cruise around the harbour, but as the morning progressed the wind dropped and the sun shone. We made our way over the bridge to the harbour and boarded in brilliant sunshine.
The ship, although a replica, reeked of authenticity, the original had sailed out from England, but looking at the size of her I was fairly sure I would not have liked to have made that voyage. Hobart is clearly meant to be seen from the river as a port town. Edging out from the harbour you do get a good idea of what the original settlers thought of the site. The old town is situated right on the water front with newer conurbations spreading up the mountain. We loved the experience of being on the water looking at the city. All too soon our hour and a half was over.
The pleasure of sailing in a wooden ship around a harbour built by convicts is hard to describe, the sounds of the sails unfurling, the creaking of the timbers, the lapping of the river against the bows are sounds that are difficult to describe. One is always taken back to the history both of the city and the boat itself. All three of us thoroughly enjoyed the experience and all three said that we would do it again with out hesitation.
We had lunch in a bar in the city and then made our way home. A few friends came for afternoon tea to say good bye and we had a tea party which was very pleasant. The evening was spent finalising packing and watching television, before we retired to bed relatively early as we had to be up a five forty five.

As you approach the end of a stay anywhere there is always some time you have never adequately planned for. In my case I am ever too concerned about this as the tour director normally has things fully under her very capable control. And so today we headed off to Mona the Museum of New Arts in Hobart which is a major tourist attraction sitting up on the river bank at Glenorchy, built by a world gambler who used his winnings to finance it. Pam drove us out to the museum and and as she had to be at work in the afternoon we went straight to lunch, sitting outside overlooking the River Derwent in bright sunshine. My stomach complaint having somewhat abated I enjoyed a cheese and bacon sandwich. The tour director was full of praise for her salmon salad which I have to say did look very nice.
The museum is dug into a quarry so that very little of it shows above ground, therefore, once you are in you drop three floors to start the tour. The emphasis is on twentieth century art or even twenty first century art and there are no signs of respect for any of the old traditions. It is a strange place, there is much that is fascinating and macabre, much relating to death and more than a few pieces relating to sex. We came out three hours later not quite sure if we had enjoyed the experience or not but at least it made us talk about what we had seen. The owner has just sold a Damien Hirst piece to finance building a new wing so there will be changes in the future. The audience was large and varied and consisted of all ages and now comes from all over the world.
As we were leaving the heavens opened and we ended up queuing for the ferry back to Hobart in pouring rain. The tour director was not amused but has a strange idea about staying dry in such circumstances, instead of staying to the leeward of a portacabin which offered some protection she insisted on straying out into the open on the pier. I was brave enough to point out the folly of this action and she did come back to the edge of the cabin and thus we were not as wet as we might have been.
The ferry back along the Derwent is a memorable ride as mountains are glimpsed along the river side and fade as bends are taken on the way downstream. In Hobart the sun was shining and we caught the bus home enjoying the ride in the sunshine back across the river.
We stopped off at Woolworth's to buy some food came home cooked our tea and watched DCI Banks for a couple of hours, good old British television.

There is no joy in having a stomach bug when you are travelling and that is exactly how I felt today although there was a clear improvement from yesterday. The tour director is not too amused at the whole situation and is keeping a watchful eye on me.
The harbour and mountain viewed out of the window of the house we are staying in looked enticing and we ventured out in the morning to go to Woolworth's where we shopped for supplies before returning for lunch with Pam's sister and a friend who arrived from the north.
After lunch Pam dropped us off I the great metropolis that is Hobart and we went to the Tasmanian museum. This is well worth a visit and we immersed ourself in the history and art of Tasmania, the tour director is now well used to having a great deal of history on her travels with me. Seriously though we both enjoyed the experience and we stayed until the museum closed at the rather early hour of four pm.
We then went for a walk around the harbour in Hobart and looked at the wooden boats before we headed off to catch a bus home. The tour director pointed out quite forcibly that I wanted to wait in the wrong side of the road for the bus and once we had rectified that situation we were soon heading back across the River Derwent.
The  evening was a quiet one sat watching the lights twinkling across the river and watching Sherlock on ABC. The Hound of the Baskervilles still has a strong pull.
We are very saddened by the fact that our time in Tasmania is rapidly coming to an end. This is a beautiful state full of rapid variations in landscape and climate, a small island that is redolent of England in so many ways. The people are extremely friendly and helpful and we feel truly at home here. I suppose the question is "Would we settle here?"
The answer probably is that we may have done thirty years ago but now the UK has a strong pull on us and anyway we are now to old for Australia to accept us.

Wednesday my stomach bug decided was the day it would really play up, I hadn't eaten all day Tuesday and didn't fancy anything at all for breakfast. We set of for home with me having serious doubts about the number of public toilets I had seen on the way up.
We stopped to get some bread rolls fro lunch and set off on the return journey. As there is only one road in and one road out it had to a journey on the same road.
The rain was spouting down, the mists had descended, the mountains were obscured and the road was slippy. To take my mind off my stomach I volunteered to drive the first couple of hours. We stopped for a twenty minute walk to Donachie's lookout, a somewhat uphill stroll which took it out of me but we made it and the views were magnificent. High mountains a verdant forest under a grey sky with swirling clouds.
We continued our journey to "The Wall" one man's artistic voyage, a huge  hundred metre wood carving each panel two metres high and a metre across. The quality of the wood carving was exceptional, and the story told was of how the early Australian pioneers had transformed the environment they discovered. The tour manager and I were awe struck.
Th carver of this masterpiece had never had a wood carving lesson in his life and that made it all the more remarkable.
The journey back to Hobart was uneventful although as soon as we got home I went to bed as the Australians would say feeling a little crook.
Without the aid of Rennie we would.not have made this trip and we are so grateful to him for organising it all, it was a tremendous experience and one which will stay with us for a long time.

Tuesday was the day of our journey up the River Gordon and to the opening of MacQuarrie Harbour, Hells Gates. This harbour is larger than Sydney harbour and it stretches for miles. We were up early and down at the boat by eight thirty. The tour manager has all in hand. The boat left at ten to nine,  having announced it was going to leave at nine, tough luck if you were late. Because all passengers had allocated seats we can only think that all the booked passengers were on board. The day was wonderful, warm with a blue sky and few clouds, the sea was calm and the scenery of majestic mountains all around were clearly visible.
The journey to Hells Gates, a very narrow harbour entrance, took about twenty minutes and then the captain announced that as it was so calm we would venture into the Roaring Forties and go and have a look at Sorrell Lighthouse, put there to guide ships towards the narrow harbour entrance. Neither the tour manager nor myself ever thought we would be sailing in the Southern Ocean, it was a great thrill.
After the heads we were off to inspect a fish farm, as there are several in the harbour. Having done that it was off to Sarah Island, a penal colony in the middle of the harbour where second offenders would be sent as an additional punishment. The island became a major ship building centre for the penal colonies but it was also a horrific place. The first settlers were ordered to remove all the foliage only for them to them discover that in the first serious gale from the south that they had no protection, good planning all round.
The afternoon consisted of a slow and leisurely trip up the Gordon River to Heritage Landing where we had a thirty minute walk in the temperate rainforest looking at trees and plants that we did not know.
Back on the boat to Stahan the trip ended in a Huon Pine saw mill with an explanation of how important the logging industry had been.
In the evening we went to a play, "The Boat that never was" a great romp explains a successful escape bid by a number of convicts on Sarah Island, which they left and sailed for Chile. A fantastic day somewhat spoils by the fact I had a stomach nupset and did not feel like eating, but I wa sdetermined not let that get in the way. If anyone has any plans to visit Tasmania this is a trip I would thoroughly recommend.

First of all my apologies to all of our regular readers for the lapses in our publication. One of the things we need is a working wifi system and sometimes that presents problems. We also need to remember to blog in a regular basis. So there we go lethargy backed with a failure to link to a reasonable communication system. This blog has now had over four thousand readers so I believe you are all due an apology.
Monday was the day of our great expedition to the west coast with our good friend Rennie. We were heading off into the unknown, a five hour trip from Hobart. We were picked up at ten after we had found Rennie who for some reason was waiting outside number twenty three. The tour manager had the good sense to go down to the kerbside and look up and down the road and lo and behold there was Rennie three houses down.
The journey followed the course of the River Derwent and it wove through a beautiful valley the river borders lined with weeping willows planted by early settlers. Pastures ran down to the river and there were several places where one could have been looking at English countryside.
We stopped for lunch at Lake St Clair the largest lake in Tasmania surrounded by mountains and looking particularly appealing in the hot summer sunshine. I forgot to put on my insect repellent and consequently the mosquitos had a filed day on my legs as we sat by the lake and enjoyed a picnic provided by Rennie.
After Derwent Bridge we entered the high country, large mountains and temperate rain forest, eucalyptuses and ferns lined the road, an impenetrable forest lining the road. At Mount Lyell mining reared its ugly head. Sulphur fumes and apparently helped to delude the countryside of vegetation and there were no trees in what was clearly a major mining area of some importance. A tough unfriendly landscape with no redeeming features. The town of Queenstown waits anxiously for the copper mine to announce that it is going to reopen, there are large numbers of unemployed and the government is currently subsidising the pumping out of the mine until the owners think that the mine is once again economically viable.
After another hour and a half of driving we arrived in Strahan a picturesque port in MacQuarrie Harbour. After dropping our bags off at Kiah's, a friend of Rennies, we wandered down to the coastline and enjoyed a couple of beers in the pub before heading back for dinner.
A long day but one which gave us a different view of Tasmania, this is a much bigger state than you think and there are great differences between the various landscapes one encounters. This is our second visit and yet there is still so much for us to see.

Sunday was a day of rest, our lovely landlady had to go to work early and we languished in bed until nine, to be fair we were both a little exhausted form our exertions the day before. The tour director takes her managerial responsibilities very seriously and for that I am grateful.
It was our task to prepare the evening meal and so our first excursion was to Woolworth's, how that name brings back happy memories of  child hood rapture in a British High Street shop. Unfortunately this was a huge food supermarket, but it did the job.
We planned our menu carefully had a quiet lunch and then set about the task. A starter of mango salad, followed by a beef and coconut curry and for desert peaches grilled with a little brandy and brown sugar topped with Greek yoghurt.
I have to say it all went rather well. We had a very pleasant walk along the shore line in the afternoon. We are on the opposite side of the River Derwent form Hobart and so are rewarded with glorious views across to the city which lies directly beneath Mount Wellington, the water, the boats the view are all wonderful.

Saturday proved to be wet and miserable as storms hit Hobart. The rain and the wind put an end to our visit to Salamanca market across the bay, much to the dismay of the tour director who had been looking forward to perusing the market stalls. So we stayed in and I prepared again for the history school in the afternoon, which was probably needed. I had to cut my talk on the British Suffragettes down from an hour to thirty five minutes which was causing me some problems.
We had a quiet lunch at home before setting off to the Polish Club where the History School was to be held. We arrived about thirty minutes early and I was first on talking about why Britain sent political prisoners to the colonies, it all went well and the history speaker's manager was very pleased with it, so Brownie points all round.
The second session was on songs the convicts brought with them and I thoroughly enjoyed it before I launched into the Suffragettes. Halfway through that session the last speaker arrived and I had to truncate it even more, however it went fairly well. The last session was really interesting as it involved a producer director of a film coming out soon in Australia  which tells the story of some of the convicts.
At the end several people stayed behind to talk to me before we repaired to the organiser's house for a barbecue. I have to say it was a little cold outside and people sat around in their coats huddling beside a chimenea, it was all very like an English barbecue. However, it was a very enjoyable evening.
All in all I was pleased with the way the History school went, there about forty people there and from comments afterwards most people seemed to enjoy it. As a speaker that in itself is rewarding and the school raised about two hundred dollars towards a plaque to commemorate William Cuffay, a Chartist who was transported to Hobart for his part in the Orange Tree conspiracy.

Out of the window one could just perceive Hobart on the opposite bank of the River Derwent meaning the rain had abated. The view from this house is magnificent and changes almost every hour as the river changes are different clouds appear in the sky across Mount Wellington.
After a leisurely breakfast we were off to Hobart to return the car and then off to the shops to remedy our clothing shortage especially as next week we are off to the West Coast which is supposedly wet.
So into Salamanca awe ventured stopping in that well known emporium "Katmandhu".
The tour manager suddenly sprang into life, clothes and spending appeared to be the key word. She almost immediately found a magenta top which suited her followed by a long sleeved top and some other item she apparently despararately needed. I wa swallowed a top, a long sleeved shirt, because I have none with me and a pair of trousers. What sort of shop is it that has trousers in medium, large, X like and two X like sizes. I was flummoxed and to ask an assistant for help only to be told I should try everything from a large size upwards until I found a pair that fitted. With the tour manager in attendance this is exactly what I did, and luckily for me the large size was the one I needed.
Pam found a lovely Puffa jacket in the sale and this was much coveted by the tour manager, unfortunately there was only one of that size but we were assured that another store in Hobart had the required item so off we set to try and procure one.
The second store proved a great disappointment to the tour director as they didn't have the required item, but she compensated by buying another top and much to my surprise I was able to find a Puffa jacket in the correct size for me. This did not necessarily go down well with the tour director but she was pleased with yet another purchase.
The afternoon was spent preparing for the talk I give tomorrow interspersed with shortening the trousers I had purchased and weeding in the garden.
In the evening we headed off to the Lark pub to listen to live music and had a fantastic fish and chip supper on the quay in Hobart. Another lively evening.

Rain, rain and rain backed up by howling winds and a redolent feeling that this was England rather spoilt the morning. However, knowing we had to move we were up early and breakfasted before packing the car in the wet. Although we are supposedly prepared for all eventualities we have not come equipped for the Tasmanian weather, I only have one pair of jeans and one jumper and we have two pack away macs, hardly sufficient for pouring rain and cold winds. The tour manager was not a happy bunny.
We decided to drive north away from Hobart, along the coast road to Falmouth, unfortunately the rain continued and refused to abate so from time to time we were able to see the ocean and the golden beaches which abound along the coastline. Falmouth was a very small village and in a rather amused manner the tour photographer took some pictures capturing the rural locality.
We then drove up St. Mary's pass to a central plateau bordered on one side by coal mines and high mountains which we just about able to perceive through the mist and rain. The drive back to Hobart was uneventful through farming land consisting mainly of pasture with hills in the distance. Hobart itself proved to to be a huge traffic jam and it took us ages to get back to the house.
We were warmly greeted and given tea and cheese and biscuits before heading out again in the rain to a restaurant where we enjoyed a meal for the tour director's birthday. Surrounded by good friends we had a thoroughly enjoyable evening, full of laughter and bonhomie. Who could ask for more?

Wednesday and in the daylight our first objective was to investigate the non locking door, there was no apparent reason for it failing to lock but it steadfastly refused to do so. After about thirty minutes of failing valiantly we were forced to telephone Simon, the caravan's owner to explain the situation to him. He told us to leave it and to get ourselves off to Freycinet and we did just that.
The drive to Frecinet national park took about three quarters of an hour but as we got closer we were greeted with great views of the Hazard mountains and a bright blue sea glistening under an almost cloudless sky.
We purchased or ticket for the park and headed off on the footpath up the mountain to Wineglass Bay.
The path WA steep and certainly took it out of us, it was an almost perfect day for walking in Australia not too warm, with a foolish breeze blowing off the sea. The struggle to the top was certainly worth it, great views of a perfect bay with sapphire blue sea bounding onto a tropical looking sandy shore. After a stop for the tour photographer to take another fifty shots we walked down a steep path into the bay and enjoyed our lunch sitting on the sand looking out across the ocean.
Over lunch we decided not to return the way we had come but rather to take the Isthmus path which was a three hour return. We enjoyed the walk across the peninsula and out onto Hazard beach which was spectacular. The walk did take us the full three hours suggested and we arrived back at the car tired but elated, having thoroughly enjoyed our stroll along the cliff top.
After a quick look at the hamlet of Coles Bay we headed back to Sawnsea where we enjoyed a much needed pint of beer before heading off for an excellent supper of fish and chips. The eleven kilometre walk had taken it out of us and we retired to bed early full of wonderful memories, of golden beaches and glinting sea, aboriginal maddens, large lizards and beautiful birds. A walk well worth doing and also very rewarding. The coast of Tasmania is as beautiful as any I have ever seen.
The tour manager although fatigued was delighted with the day's walk and the outing as a whole.

Tuesday dawned fine and warm in the changeable climate that Hobart and Tasmania enjoy. We were away just after ten on the road to Swansea, pronounced here with emphasis on the second syllable. The drive was enjoyable, through countryside that looked remarkably English along a winding narrow road. Those convicts who were sent here must have felt the similiarity too. All in all it was a picturesque drive.
We arrived in Swansea in time for lunch and fell in love with the town and its environs. Huge sandy beaches stretching for miles in all directions,  with majestic mountains rising across the bay glinting in the afternoon sun.
After a spot of shopping we headed back to our caravan and had a little trouble locking the door before we headed off for a drive along nine mile beach. Unfortunately, much to the tour director's chagrin we couldn't see much of the beach and therefore the sea until we reached the end of the road, where we got out for a walk along a deserted beach. The wind was quite chilly but it was a beautiful afternoon. All in all we walked for a mile beside a raging sea on sand which was both blond and fine.
On our return to the caravan we again had a little difficult with the lock on the door before we headed out to the Bark Mill Tavern for an evening meal to celebrate my birthday. The meal was good and we had a very enjoyable time.
We had been promised superb stars over Swansea but they didn't materialise due mainly to the heavy cloud cover. We walked down to the beach again in the hope of seeing some wallabies gambolling on the sand butt like the stars they didn't want to appear.
And so rather tiredly we made our way back to the caravan, at this point we had great difficulty in locking the door of the caravan and we eventually we were forced to give up, deciding to leave it until the morning when we could investigate in greater detail.

Monday was spent catching up with old friends and administrative be tasks. We arranged to borrow a friend's caravan for a couple of days and also rang Avis to hire a car. Pam then took us up Mount Wellington where the views across Hobart were magnificent. Small islands and inlets surround the city and the visibility was fantastic. The only drawback was the sixty mile an hour wind which whipped across the top of the mountain, not only as it very strong but it was also very cold, all was worth it though for the views.
We came down the mountain and had a wonderful lunch in a small restaurant before heading back to Pam's house.
After lunch we headed off to A...s to collect our car. We had been promised it would be ready at 12.00 but when we arrived we were told there would be a half hour wait. So we wandered off into the shopping centre of Hobart. We returned,having spent nothing, to be told our car still hadn't arrived. We then had to wait for another for another forty five minutes before our car arrived. The tour manager insisted that I should be assertive so I asked the man behind the very high counter what sort of deal he was going to offer us. He immediately upgraded us and gave us a Toyota Camry, he also threw in a five dollar map and said that if we returned the car full of petrol he would reduce our bill by forty dollars.
Having got our car we headed for the airport to try and sort out our flight out of Tasmania which had mysteriously disappeared from our itinerary and definitely was not on "manage your booking". We were helped at the airport by two check in staff who had seemingly nothing to do, but who found our booking and assured us that we did indeed have a flight out. The tour director was most pleased as the whole thing had been concerning her a little.
We then headed of for the historic town of Richmond where we explored the oldest Catholic Church in Australia and found the convict built bridge, which was picturesque.
After visiting Richmond Jail we headed off back to Hobart where we attended choir practice and saw the second run through of the folk opera "William Cuffay".
We enjoyed the singing and then went for a meal with Simon, Alison and Guilia who seemed delighted to be with us. All in all a great day.

Sunday we were up early and having breakfasted were taken by a kind member of the Holiday Inn staff to the airport terminal.
Our flight was on time and after a fairly interminable wait we were boarded and off to Hobart. The flight was OK but the food we were offered on board was dire. Carrot sticks and hummus with dried out celery. The celery was black on both ends and we pointed this out to air steward who said she was  going to report it back. Who knows if this happened?
The landing at Hobart was smooth and we were walked across the tarmac to the terminal, an experience which one forgets happens at smaller airports. We waited for ages in the terminal for our baggage to appear and our friend Pam arrived in the middle of the waiting process. It is always a joy to be met at the airport by someone you know.
After lunch we walked over to the Bellerive Oval to watch some Shield Cricket between Tasmania and Queensland. As it was so late in the afternoon we got in free and enjoyed a beer in the sunshine watching some high class cricket. The tour manager enjoyed the cricket and the atmosphere of the small crowd, the second first class game of cricket she has attended. I am not sure she is a cricket convert though.
The walk to the Oval across Howrah beach which is beautifully sandy was well worth doing, it is always a delight to be beside the sea which was sapphire blue beneath the shadow of Mount Wellington.
We enjoyed the views from Pam's house across the River Derwent to Hobart and had a great supper before going to bed justifiably tired.
Pam's house sits on the top of a hill and has wonderful views across the river towards Hobart, it is an ever changing picture which we both enjoy.

Saturday was a travel day to Melbourne airport, we got away at about ten thirty and stopped in Myrtleford so that we could purchase our lunch from the bakery there. Two filled rolls and two soft drinks and we were off on the road for the four and a half drive to Melbourne.
We stopped for lunch in a fairly odd service station and arrived at the airport around three. We booked in at the Holiday Inn and took the car back to Avis.
The check in of the car went well and we walked back to our hotel only to discover that a bottle of wine we had bought as a present had been left in the boot of the car. The tour manager despatched me to return to the garage to recover the wine. It would be fair to say she was not pleased.
This did not prove as easy as one might have expected. The car had already been sent for a wash and the wine had been found and sent to lost property. My case was not helped by the fact I didn't have the car registration which rather delayed things.
Eventually I was found on the dreaded computer and various messages were sent. I was told to sit and wait and about fifteen minutes later the wine and I were reunited.
The drive from Bright to Melbourne starts in the mountains and continues through the Ovens Valley to flat grassy plains before reemergeing into hills just outside Melbourne, it is a good road but a very uninteresting drive.
The Holiday Inn was good and we had a relatively good meal in the evening before retiring tied and relatively very happy.

All good things come to an end and this short break was no exception, we were up early packing and preparing to leave. The efficacy of the tour manager in these situations is second to none, we were packed the apartment cleaned , breakfasted and the car packed ready to leave by nine thirty, with a deadline of ten, giving us thirty minutes to spare. Most of the time in these moments of packing and preparation I find it best for me to do menial tasks like washing up and packing the car, in this way lies true peace and happiness.
We headed into Yarrawonga to get some fuel for the car and then headed for Corowa around the lake marvelling at the half submerged trees which appear ghost like rising out of the water retaining the grey colour that gum trees have.
Corona was another pioneer town on the Murray and we stopped on the banks to take several photographs of the Murray in a different location.
The drive back to Bright was wonderful a slow peregrination across countryside redolent of English parkland though small somewhat sleepy towns, which could have hosted a nineteen fifties black and white cowboy movie at the drop of a hat.
In the afternoon we went into Bright to look at the gathering hot rods. I readily admit I am not a petrol head but there is some beauty in these ancient vehicles who get together for the "Iconic Bright Hot Rod Run". The idea appears to be that these cars accumulate in a particular town and then either cruise around continually or stop with their bonnet up so that passers by may marvel at the work that has clearly been done under the bonnet. It appeared to me that all the engine compartments I looked in were spectacularly clean. However, I can only maintain my interest in such things for a relatively short period of time. By the end of the afternoon there must have been three or four hundred cars in the town centre and around.
In the evening we went for a Thai meal and had a good time watching the cars circling like vultures.
Our last day in Bright made special by a group who like nothing better than to tinker with old cars, tinker is definitely the wrong word as these cars are taken apart and rebuilt with love and enthusiasm.

Thursday proved to be fairly wet and miserable with a dropping temperature being some what redolent of Britain, we took Pam into Yarrawnga for a further exploration proving the old idiom that the second explorer of anything gets very little recognition for all of their hard work. It seems to me we visited exactly the same shops as we had done the day before, although to be fair a few new ones were added to the tour , particularly if they housed shoes bags or clothes.
Lunch over we set off for the Byramine Homestead leaving Mike behind to sleep. The homestead was built in 1842 or a widow who had unfortunately lost her husband to bush rangers. The house was designed in a hexagonal shape with octagonal rooms supposedly to offer three hundred and sixty degree visibility, thus giving attacking bushrangers and aborigines a hard job. Floor. Boards were removable to hide weapons and to provide an access to the cellar for children should the house have been attacked.
The tour director was a bit flummoxed by the design of the house and could quite understand how three hundred and sixty degree visibility could have been achieved. This was the oldest standing farmhouse in Victoria and has survive because the wood it was built from is resistant to termite attacks, as though it wasn't enough to worry about bushrangers  attacking your home.
I found the place really fascinating and found myself empathising with the early settlers who clearly had a a very hard time of it.
On the way back to the apartment we went to the Pioneer museum in Mulwala which unfortunately was only open for another fifteen minutes, however there was no one to take our money, which we woudln't have given readily with such a short time scale left so we spent the time looking around until the lady came to lock up professing not to have heard us enter, she even offered to stay open for us which made me think that she didn't get that many visitors.
Dinner was in the same hotel as the previous night and again it was of a high standard.The journey to dinner was eventful as we had apparently to make it in the midst of thunderstorm, so we arrived in the restaurant soaking wet, partly caused by the fact the tour manager had left our rain coats in Bright. There is absolutely nothing quite like having a meal whilst one is soaking wet.
 All in all an interesting afternoon looking at the history of the area.

Wednesday dawned with a gloomy look about it. Rain clouds were clearly gathering in the distance. Rosemarie and I left the ensemble for a while and went off to Yarrawonga for a quick exploration. We found Woolworths and purchased provisions for lunch before walking up and down the high street looking at various shops.
The town has clearly been built on the tourist trade attracted to the lake and the river. There were several interesting small shops and plenty of shoe shops for the tour manager to explore. All too soon we had to return for lunch which we enjoyed before setting out to explore the Murray River, heading for Cobram another pioneer town which we enjoyed. As the storm clouds gathered for a meeting just above the town we left for Johnson's beach right on the Murray, a stretch of sand on a bend in the river which looked just like one of those pictures of Australia one would have been shown in primary school, deep river banks, rather muddy water, red gum trees down to the edge of the bank and a paddle steamer tied up to a wharf. As we stood there contemplating this scene the rain began to fall and we beat a leisurely retreat to the car. We then headed for Boogra which as the name suggests seems to consist of very little at all, however a mysterious side road offered the tantalising Quicks beach which proved to be anything rather than speedy to reach, but once we got there it was worth the trials and tribulations. A camping area right beside a wide stretch of river with a long view around both bends again offering typical or so I think Australian views.
The tour director was made up as she managed to photograph a kookaburra high up in a tree so she was very happy indeed.
After Quick's beach we headed back to Mulwala through farming land, vegetables, wheat and fruit trees.
Our evening meal was taken in Yarrawonga in the main hotel and it proved to be a very good meal indeed, the tour director asked for garfish fillets and had a serving of four, which was fairly generous.
The hotel had clearly been built in the nineteenth century but had been tastefully modernised, the dining room was clean and airy and the beer was good, who could ask for more?

Tuesday morning and we had to get up and pack for a few days away at Mulwala. Di and Paul were relatively late up, to be fair Paul was up but Di didn't quite make the cut.However they left when we did, so everything worked out well in the end. We drove to Mulwala on a fairly uneventful drive through atypical Australian countryside, large gum trees, open fields and small towns which may well have been transported from America, wide board walks and balconies.
Pam and Mike had to drop their dog off at their gardener's so they travelled in their car. We found our destination fairly easily and parked the car deciding to go for a thirst satisfying beer whilst we waited for them to arrive. We were somewhat taken aback to walk into one of the largest bars we have been in for some time and to find that the bar was full of revellers enjoying the public holiday granted for the horse race that is the Melbourne Cup.
To give you some idea of the size of the place behind the bar there were over a hundred one armed bandits with their captivating flashing lights. Our estimate was that there were over three hundred people in the bar alone, and we didn't count those in a private party out on the lawn.
As the race started a hush fell over the room as all those with a bet on, and that seemed like most people in the room became concerned with the their wagers. As the race reached the home straight the cheering increased and the race was won by Michelle Payne riding The Prince Of Penzance. She was the first woman to win this race as a jockey. The odds on the horse wining were a hundred to one but had we known we would have had a couple of dollars on it.
Pam and Mike arrived and we were shown to a very lovely waterside apartment, large lounge coining area and two bedrooms.
We settled in with some glee enjoying watching the water on the lake, the black swans, the Pelicans and the moorhens. The lake is part of the mighty Murray river which has been flooded. In the evening we went for an Italian meal in the Italian restaurant in the complex which was quite good. After a fairly tiring day it was early to bed listening to the lapping of the lake against the foreshore.

Monday
The family gathered around the breakfast table and another fried breakfast was ably delivered by Leigh. After breakfast there was quite a lot of chat and coffee as all families do before they go their separate ways.
The tour director and Pam went to the local market in Bright which looked similar to many a European market. I wasn't all that bothered about going so spent the morning talking and acting as a taxi service.
As soon as Rosemarie and Pam returned Leigh and Sue Ellen and family left to return to Melbourne and then there were six. Basically the whole day was spent on the verandah chatting. Paul cooked sausages fro lunch and in the evening we had a Chinese takeaway.
The highlight of the day was the discovery of a brush tailed possum in the shed which had a baby on its back. It certainly didn't appreciate being introduced to me and looked positively scared.
The weather was indifferent with heavy rain showers and so it seemed best just to stay at home and chat.
The outdoor life is great people can hardly believe we only had one barbecue all summer or that our summer was so wet and miserable. Conversation is a means of education and here it covered drink driving, politics, The Melbourne Cup, education and VAT. I think the British Council realised this a long time ago and has been encouraging students to participate for as long as I remember.

Sunday
The rains have arrived and the fir covered hills across the valley drifted in and out of sight. The family gathered for breakfast on the verandah and Leigh managed to cook the appropriate numbers of eggs and bacon.
After breakfast with the rain pouring down the preparations were put into place for dinner as twelve lamb shanks were put into slow cookers with red wine and onion and thyme.
We were then invited by Leigh and Paul to go four wheel driving in the hills around Bright. This was too good an opportunity to miss. There are hundreds of miles of these tracks around Bright which go deep into the bush and which we never normally see.
The tour director and I set off with Leigh and Nick, my great nephew set off with Paul. After about three miles we were on a dirt road heading off deep into forest. This was fine until we left the road and then headed up hill on a dirt track, the significant thing here is the difference between the words "road" and "track". We were now in first gear and heading up a pot holed rock filled track no wider than the vehicle which made life interesting. The views across the valleys were magnificent, this is true alpine country, steep valleys, high crags, pine trees and mountains, small farms clustering on the river banks in a truly pastoral setting.
All was going fine until Leigh suggested that I might like a drive, the tour director was not too enamoured with the whole idea but he insisted and we swapped seats. Paul almost immediately decided to drive up a one in three slope and on the other side we came to what Paul said over the radio was a slight drop off. The "slight" drop off consisted of a descent which was about thirty degrees down a gravel covered track with a ridge in the middle and two deep ruts.
To be fair to me I made it about half way down before discretion became the better part of valour. I told Leigh I would prefer it if he took it down and we agreed this was probably a better idea.
Leigh took control and off we set with the tour director hanging on grimly. Things went we'll until we engaged in what Leigh later described As Sidey Sidey action. This basically consisted of us sliding from side to side as we progressed down the track, all caught on camera by phone by Paul standing at the bottom of the hill.
The tour director was not amused by the whole incident.
Back on flat ground we made our way back into Bright along logging tracks stopping off in the pub for a pint before going home.
The scenery and the experience were fantastic, neither of us have ever been rough four wheel driving or seen some of the views we saw today. In fact many of the sights we saw have never been seen by the majority of people who visit Bright.
In the evening we had the cooked lamb and several glasses of wine and spent a convivial evening. Who could ask for more.

Saturday
The day started with a trip to the supermarket to buty provisions for the weekend and to put fuel in Pam's car.
In the afternoon my nephew and niece arrived. My nephew, Leigh brought his two children and Di and Paul arrived separately. The afternoon was spent talking, drinking and catching up with all concerned having a jolly time in the afternoon sun. The highlight was Paul cooking our dinner on the barbecue. Di had paid for him to go to a barbecue school and it was well worth it.
Starters consisted of a melted Camembert sat right from the barbecue to the table served as a dip with fresh bread.
The second course was corn on the cob served with chipotle mayonnaise and freshly grated Parmesan cheese. At this point I need to apologise  to all of my readers who believe that I spend too much time talking about food. However, in family gatherings like this food is an important part of the festivities.
The wine flowed, especially a fine clear skin Pinot noir that Di brought.
The third course was lamb straps which were cooked to perfection. All in all this was a day for a catching up. As we haven't seen them all for nearly four years it was great to catch up and swap stories, to laugh and to share jokes and stories.
It is always good to catch up with families and it is great as far as we are concerned that they have made the effort to drive for four hours to come and see us. It has made the day more special and there is a feeling that you are not alone in the world.
The house in Bright is a perfect venue for such a gathering, it has a long front porch and it has three separate accommodation units, so we were able to sit outside for a long time. The flies and mosquitos are a problem but the conviviality overcame all of that.
All too soon it was time for bed and the tour director and I retired to our suite.