Challenge Completed!

We did it!

For those who are interested, my first purchase was a pear and rhubarb crumble tarlet........Mmmmmm.............and I'm still trying to get out of a parking ticket I received one day prior to the official end of our trip.

We completed our mammoth journey a few weeks ago and have been trying to adjust to 'normal' life again.

With a few responsibilities which had escaped our attention for the nine months we were on the penniless journey, each of us now has a few neglected issues which now requires our urgent attention. But of course we will resume writing blog posts and the hank yous which are missing between Adelaide and Brisbane shortly. Please rest assured all you lovely people who helped us, you have not been forgotten. We will be giving our blog full attention as soon as we catch up with mums and dads who haven't heard from us in ages, with student loan repayments which have been neglected, feed hungry goldfish, eat all the salt and vinegar crisps we can and get a bit of exercise after being cramped up in the cheeky van for so long! We are also catching up on the long awaited beer and bourbon which has been sorely missed for many a night of the trip.....so when we sober up......we will be back.

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Our Cheeky Challenge - Circumnavigating Australia without Money

Want to know more about how we started and what we are doing?
Read more about our mission and what people are saying about it here
Read The Beginning here
href="http://ascheekyasyoucant.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-lifestyle-choicer.html">The Challenge

From UN World Peace Day (Sep 21st) we circumnavigate the continent of Australia. See map.

We begin with NOTHING: we will have no cash, no clothes, no possessions and no vehicle at the start of our journey.

We remain penniless the whole journey, not spending a cent for anything.

We do any job given to us and donate all our wages to Book Aid.

At the end, we give back, donate or auction all we have been given.

Attempt to reach our goal of raising £10,000 ($22500) for Book Aid

We place the outcome of our journey, our lives and our adventure into the hands of others.

We work in exchange for goods and services such as food and fuel.
Read more here

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The Penniless Nomad Adventure Tour - Where are we now???

View Cheeky Trip in a larger map

It's 4pm Friday and we have just landed back in Brisbane! Hooray! We will be out fund-raising this weekend and then we will complete our penniless venture first thing Monday. We are hoping to reach our goal of $25,000. Read a cheeky bit more!

Adelaide - The Cold, the Flu and Someone has been Humping my Pillow!

More spanners in the works.
Gareth’s visa is up again and he has had to jump out of the country again to renew it. This time he has skipped out to New Zealand for a few days. In the mean time Phil and I have been put up in a great apartment, Quest Mansions, for a few days over the weekend, right in the city. It is pure luxury to be able to do simple things like sit on a sofa and make a cup of tea whenever we like. Charlene, the manager has even taken our washing down into the restaurant below, washed our clothes and fed us. This is a treat.



Lilly flowers in Adelaide Botanic Garden



When we arrive in a city we always have to make use of the free public facilities such as library internet access and newspaper reading rooms. Days are spent in the library trying to catch up with emails and writing up everything that has happened during the long periods on the road when we have no internet access and catching up with the news.



We find a place to relax in Adelaide Botanic Gardens

When we have time we visit tourist information to get free maps and find out what treasures we can see for free in the city, and we are always surprised at how much you can do without money. In Adelaide, the South Australian Museum has a huge array of exhibiions under one roof, free of charge. As we wondered around we noticed the Veolia Nature Photographer of the year 2008 Winners were being exhibited. Below is my entry to this competition.



An interesting plant stem found in the Botanic Gardens

Just a month previously I had entered this picture in the 2009 competition, thanks to my sister Tara paying the £20 entry fee, and I was eager to take a browse around at the kind of standards I was up against. Luckily, we were given complimentary entry into this separately charged exhibition but as I walked through the gallery of astonishing shots, as I walked from frame to frame, I could see my chances of getting anywhere with my entry diminishing with every step. Take a look here at the amazing online gallery.



The hilariously named 'Mother in Law's Chair'

Another fantastic free attraction is the Adelaide Botanic Gardens featuring historic, scientific and educational exhibits of native and exotic plants. Filled with all sorts of people enjoying lunch under trees, taking pictures of specimens and taking a break from the office, this is a green haven of relaxation and peace, slap bang in the middle of the usual hubbub of city frenzy.



A Street Entertainer on Rundle Street Mall

Adelaide itself is a lovely city. If I had money to spend it would have been a great place to try out all the amazing looking cafes, and eateries. But even without cash it was still nice to wander around and happen upon some wonderful pieces of street art.



So far we have managed to go without doing these extremes

A few days later the temperature dropped.
We had been kitted out in clothes fit for intense humid summer only and now we have just landed in what feels like winter. Luckily I was given a pair of jeans from Sheree in Esperance but if it weren’t for that one pair I would be without full length covering my legs. I am still yet to be given any shoes and my toes are usually a pale blue colour. Sleeping in the van which is tightly parked in the small car park of a The Travellers Inn Hostel, (to whom we are very grateful for allowing us the use of their facilities including phone and internet). It’s so cold that I am wearing nearly every clothing item I have been given, I can't stop shivering even though I'm lying under a pile of sleeping bag, blankets and coats and I can’t bring myself to open the window to help remove the germs from my cramped environment for fear of letting more cold in. I have the dreaded flu.



Teenage lovers carve their declarations of love on the bamboo canes in the Botanic Gardens making some interesting graffitti art

I don’t know if it was the scrubbing of seagull poo out in the open, wearing next to no clothes, in Esperance; the sudden drop in temperature; or both, that got the better of me, but I am pretty miserable at the moment.



The camoflage pattern of this London Plain tree must be the inspiration for army wear

Headache, muscle ache and sinuses completely blocked, I have to breathe from my mouth, and I can’t stop the insane cycle of 3 sets 8 eight sneezes in a row per tissue.



Water fountain at the Botanic Gardens

Of course, we all know a cold is untreatable, but there are things which you can do to relieve the symptoms and to remove the germs from your environment.
Unfortunately for me, I can’t do any of these things. I can’t wash my pillow, put on warm clothes and lie in a comfy bed in a heated room with a bowl of chicken soup. In fact, I can’t eat any food items which would do me any real good right now. We are eating out of tins and it may well be the lack of fresh food in our diets that has left me susceptible to catching this cold. I don’t want to wash my hair because I haven’t used a hair dryer in over half a year and I know my long hair won’t dry properly for days in this wet cold weather.
Yes, the trite little mundane issues we most often find difficult to deal on this trip, have for me been turned into huge maudlin complaints now that I have flu and feel sorry for myself. The hackneyed sentences ‘Oh, if only I had a……..’ and ‘I would be better by now if I just had a……..’ splutter about my vicinity whenever the boys are near, but due to our circumstances, the only thing Phil can do to comfort me is make cup of tea after cup of tea (with no milk though I want it white).
Well, I won’t die but I don’t half feel the need for a few comforting things right now. I’ve just used my last tissue. Phrump.

So, looks like I won’t be doing much work in Adelaide.

We spend most nights in the van but do have some nights in a couple of hostels around town and are reminded about how disgusting other travellers can be. We found this cheese sandwich on the window sill, one bite taken out of it and the rest just left there for days. It was there when we checked in and was still there when we checked out, ants crawling all over it, a few days later.



Anyone who has ever stayed in a cheap large dormitory room knows how great and easy it is to meet fellow travellers and find a sociable group of people. However, along side this togetherness and friendly socialising, comes a few annoyances too. For example the ‘dorm rustle’. It starts with one or two of the dorm occupants going to sleep at a reasonable hour in preparation for that early morning tour they have booked, which has a pick up time of six am sharp. The fun starts as the rest of the bunk bed residents slowly decide to hit the sack in drips and drabs at stupid o'clock throughout the night in varying states of inebriation.



A water fountain on the streets of Adelaide displaying Aboriginal statues

Of course, with a room full of other people trying to sleep, putting the light on would be a big no-no, so, with up most respect for others the ‘rustlers’ creep into their corner of the room, and the fumble in the dark begins. Every item they need in order to prepare for sleep is in their back pack, somewhere, but will most likely at the bottom, the plastic bags within rustle, bin bag protecting clothes are searched through, afterward shopping bag are riffled and finally bags containing toothbrush rustle free of their bristle sticks.


Finally the rustler is ready to bed down and they hop into bed banging their head on the top bunk on entry, the under sheet of plastic on the mattress rustles as they find a foetal position facing the wall. And then a few minutes later, the next party goer returns from a few beers on the town, trips over a few plastic bags and starts his own rustling. All the while I’m trying not to listen to the rustling around me, trying so hard to get some sleep, but I am lying awake in my bottom bunk, staring at the disturbing bit of graffiti someone has written on the underside of the top bunk, which simply states:

‘I’VE BEEN HUMPING YOUR PILLOW.’



Doing a very small amount of fund raising around a few pubs, doing newspaper and radio interviews and we tried to make up for the fact we were all feeling a little caught out by the weather and cold temperature but all in all we really didn't feel too constructive in Adelade due to our failing health.



We interviewed in the ABC Adelaide studios
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Adelaide - You Mad Cows Can't Donate Blood

Does Mad Cow disease explain our crazy travel plans?

When we have a bad day, when things don't seem to pan out well, when we have to eat that stale bread without butter and sleep on the bottom bunk of a six dorm room that has decided to have a party around us, we look to other things to make us feel better. Without money it is impossible to reach for a bar of chocolate or a beer to comfort us, we have to think of other ways to take our mind off the things we covet.

Bad days for us are pretty tough. No food, no bed and no phone credit not to mention the SA temperature is dropping and we are only kitted out for tropical heat. This kind of bad luck usually only holds for a short while, we know from past experiences that we will eventually have good fortune.



In Perth, our new found friend, Mike Gilbert, turned one of our worst days yet into a joyous occasion when he decided to help us out when he was himself having a bad day, so we decided to take a leaf out of his book. Walking the streets of Adelaide we came across a blood donation centre and decided to give blood. Being the recipient of donated blood myself I know how important this kind of service is so we walked with a needle nervous stride to do a good thing. If we could help someone today then maybe due to karma we would have a better day tomorrow.

However, what we found out about our potentially tainted blood shocked us.

We can’t give blood because we lived in the UK for six months during the period 1980-1996 for fear of vCJD (the human form of ‘mad cow disease’). We three mad cows are not eligible to be donors.

Interestingly, if we had genital herpes or had smoked marijuana we would have still been eligible.

We walked out feeling a little perplexed, we didn’t feel ‘mad’ but then it would explain a lot, maybe it even explains the reasons behind us doing this trip.
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25th April, ANZAC Day in Adelaide

The Bugle pierced the gravity of reflection as The Last Post sang out long and clear after the One Minute's Silence, with the rain falling a steady, quiet drizzle, as with bowed heads, facing the Cross of Sacrifice in Memorial Park, and the Cathedral Church of St Peter standing watch behind, those present paid their respects, a dignified tribute to those who had died while in the service of their country and listened as the Chaplain spoke



An Anzac Day onlooker walks home after the parade ends

"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them"

'We will remember them' repeated the crowd softly, hands cupped, or behind their back.

"Lest we forget" spoke the Chaplain

'Lest we forget', repeated the crowd.

There was a shift in the mood, a collective composing, as the National Anthem 'Advance Australia Fair' was sang, muted, solemn, clear and proud. A brief pause, then the Chaplain lead the Benediction to The Glory of the Soldier

"We remember the people of ANZAC who offered their lives that we might live
We recognize their gift enables us to explore, to value all that is precious to humankind. On this anniversary day, gathered around this Cross, we are aware of those who took inspiration from the sacrifices and suffering of their God.
The strength that coursed through the hearts of the ANZACS on that Sunday morning of April 25th 1915 is expressed in the words of the "poet soldier"

After the poem was recited the service came to an end. Moving around the Cross and back up King William Street, I crossed the park, passing all the uniformed men and women, old and young, gathered, talking, smiling, shaking hands, wistfull still after the service, but not sad, respects had been paid, tributes made.



The ceremony by the Cross of Sacrifice was the culmination of the parade. The parade was a military procession of both serving and ex-servicemen and women, that passed northwards along Pulteney St, onto Flinders Street, before turning west onto North Terrace, passing the State National War Memorial there and north again when it meets King William St, and onto Memorial Park.

The procession was due for a 9.30am start. The light rain did not deter the diggers from marching, much as it didn't deter the crowds from lining the street to cheer them on. Almost 7000 soldiers and next of kin marched, with 18,000 lining the streets. ANZAC Day is a big deal. It marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand forces during the First World War. ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. The soldiers in those forces quickly became known as ANZACs, and the pride they soon took in that name endures to this day.



Anzac Day in Adelaide

The date, 25th of April commemorates that day in 1915 when Australia first became involved in wartime conflict, and the men of the Anzac Corps landed on the coast of Gallipoli, in Turkey. Over 8 months 8,000 men were killed as they met with fierce fire and relentless attack. The anniversary of this day became an occasion of national commemoration. Commemorative services are held at dawn, the time of the original landing, across the nation.

The marches are held also all over the country; in all cities and towns, townships and villages, a service and procession marks the day. It is a day when Australians reflect on the many different meanings of war, the lives lost and its impact on life today. The multiculturalism of Australia means that soldiers from all over the world are represented, from each and every war Australia has deployed soldiers to or fought alongside. Represented on the march were veterans now living in Australia who fought for Greece, Poland, Holland, Malta, America, Canada, France, Britain, and Serbia among others.



There were also Jeeps conveying Diggers from WWII too old to walk, and glassy eyed with emotion, as each year sees less and less of them remain; veteran Diggers from the Vietnam, Iraqui, Timor, Somalian conflicts were marching; brass bands played Waltzing Matilda; pipers played The Road to Glenrowan; Military bands rang out It's a Long Way To Tipperary; fighter planes flew overhead; the Australian Defence Force marched; the crowd shouted 'thanks, mate' and 'good on ya digger' and cheered and clapped applauding the whole time; the RAF Boy Entrants, the Womens Royal Australian Army Corps, the 1st Health Support Battalion, the Special Air Service Regiment, the 1st, 2nd, 3rd,4th, 5th,6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th Battalions of the Royal Australian Regiment marched by one after another; the energy and rhythmic military drums keeping tight each step; and the music, the noise, the sound of the beating shoes, pounding snare, steady rain, and collectivity of the emotion of it brought tears to the eyes of many, observing and taking part.



Children were told by parents what Grandad had done, where he'd been and why, a proud father watched as his son marched, replete with Grandfather's medals, honouring his memory, taking part in the march, generations united, paying respects to deeds done, lives lost and sacrifices made. After the march and the service at the Cross, there was the mood of an afterparty to the solemnity, as back over the bridge we walked, and onto Memorial Gardens where two large tents thronged with people, drinking, talking, reminiscing, laughing and acknowledging each other.

It was raining heavier by now, the drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, so I turned to go back, to a cup of coffee, in the hostel. Whatever your views on war and warfare, ANZAC Day is a very special day, and it is only one day when commemoration be made to those who died in service to their country. It is a proud day, when Australians are reminded of those who lived, and died, in their name. And it was a pleasure to have been able to witness it first hand.
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The Nullabor - Dingos, Bottle Trees and Vast Amounts of Nothingness

Bye Bye Western Australia - Ceduna Quarantine stop

"Holy shit, you better be carefull going over the..watch out as you cross the...have you got enough provisions, spare tyres, clothing, food, limbs for the trip across the...people have died on the... people have been lost, forever, and not seen since on the expanse of the... watch will you while crossing the..."

NULLARBOR!



A statue in the gardens at Eucla

Like the mighty screech of a creature from the sky that devours humans like tiny ants and keeps their skulls as mementos of its terrible fury, we had been warned, repeatedly and without cessation, each time the word was mentioned that we should watch out... along the Nullarbor. It was not good there, and we should be careful, no, more than careful, we should go beyond it, and keep going, beyond being cautious, and speed up past even vigilance, on through good care and prudence too, and career headlong into paranoia and obsessive suspicion and speculation. Only then will you see... the Other Side, they said.

NULLARBOR! the word chilled the air.



Not far to go now to get back to our starting point, Brisbane

Good old Aussies. They love a good yarn, as has been mentioned before. But this Nullarbor of theirs was exciting them all beyond what we had seen or heard before; more vivid than the stories of spider bites, or crocodile attacks, or even spider attacks on crocodiles, were tales of the Nullarbor consuming travellers like some highway Bermuda Triangle. Hushed voices, raised eyebrows, a confidential lean-in, and a clasp of the hand warned us about it, made us promise to be careful, made us honour a sacred oath on a stone plinth while smearing goats blood onto our foreheads that we would exercise extreme care while crossing... the Nullarbor.



Probably the only point of interest alng the Nullarbor, some pagan looking worship tree, nomads have offered pieces of rubbish, the full moon back lights the bottle clad tree

What is this Nullarbor of which they speak? What thing or netherworld creature can this Nullarbor be supposing to represent? Tales of bloodsoaked Backpackers stunned to silence on the South Australian border, their suntans bleached a fearful pale green, and wincing at every mention of the word Nullarbor; that six spare tyres and another engine would be needed if safe passage be made; that those unprepared for it would surely perish and that dying on the Nullarbor be a thousand deaths before the blessed release of eternal darkness.



Australia's longest Straight road, the Nullabor

To dispense with the histrionics for a second we had to, in order to get to Adelaide, cross the (officially so-named) Nullarbor Plain. In the strictly factual topographical sense the Nullarbor Plain is the section of southern land between Norseman in Western Australia and Ceduna in South Australia. Nullarbor means 'no trees' in poor Latin, which is what it is famed for and for which its repute asserts its uniqueness.



Although the land within the Nullarbor is barren, the road is surfaced and mainly coastal. The Trans Australia Railway runs directly through the centre of the Nullarbor where presumably most of The Horror lives. The Eyre Highway along which we were headed, runs along the southern section of the Nullarbor Plain. The Eyre Highway was named after John Eyre, who along with John Baxter (who unfortunately died on the journey), crossed the Nullarbor in 1841. It wasn't until 1912, however, that the first car crossed the Nullarbor.



Thanks to Bruce and Stuart we had three new Jerry cans, to add to the four we already had. They were all full thanks to Henrietta and Donald MacKenzie. Jock 'The Wrecker' Murray filled our tank for us. We were also stocked with enough food supplies. Brian Tolhurst ensured we had enough fresh bread. Warm clothing we had need of and were given too. The Esperance crew had done all they could to make sure we got accross. It was up to us to do it. We could not let them down. Tear gas and a cyanide pill each inserted into our back-left molars we had also - just in case.



Heading out of Esperance we drove 203 kilometres north to Norseman. Topping up there, we headed 193km east to Balladonia. Staying there the night, we continued next morning east along the longest straight stretch of road in Australia, a distance of 145km, until Caiguna. There we stopped for coffee and sandwiches, glad to be alive. East again is Cocklebiddy where we put in 10 litres of fuel from the jerry can supply. Tense.



A further 90km away is Madura, and in order to reach it and to reach Mundrabilla another 116km east, we inserted 20 litres from the Jerry can store. We had by then covered 859 unforgiving kilometres. Staying in Mundrabilla for the night, we drank some/most of the beer Stuart and Bruce insisted (no, no, no, really, no ,no, no. Ok, then) we take with us, sipping entranced under the milky-glare of a bright full-moon. This Nullarbor was out there, we felt it.



The Nullarbor was illuminated by a full moon as we passed through the nothingness

The final town before crossing the South Australia border is Eucla. But 15 kilometres before that is the aptly named Border Village. While there Paul at the BP Roadhouse filled our tank for us and fed us and caffeinated us too. Leaving then crossing the border, we left behind the comfort and confidence gained while in Western Australia, and entered a new world, that of South Australia, and who knew if this was where the dreaded Nullarbor might strike and force us to sing Cliff Richard Christmas Carols before eating our heads.

That night we stayed at the Nullarbor Roadhouse over 1,000 kilometres from safety in Esperance and still 1,200 from Adelaide, but almost half way across the Nullarbor Plain. We saw the treeless expanse now. Now, we have seen a lot of nothing, if such can be seen and not experienced, and this was a whole lot of it. The wind sailed across the land uninterrupted and not a single natural undulation blocked the perfectly flat scenery all around us. This Nullarbor was so terrible because it was a void.



The moon-glare illuminated for us the starry sky after the sun not so much set as dropped down like a coin into a slot, and the pinkish sunset spread across the huge western sky. Wild Dingoes mooched around, hoping for scraps, but not wanting to offend The Nullarbor with indiscreet offerings to feral creatures (really, that's why, honest) they got none but a good old shoo-ing.



The night was brisk and cold. The sallying wind seemed be moving parralell to the ground, in a straight line hurrying accross the landscape. The silence was deafening. Looking out into the expanse it seemed entirely barren. Nothing moved, or swayed. At least the ocean is constantly in flux. Not so the Nullarbor Plain. It exists as a vacuum into which all living things must yield movement eventually and merge into the stillness. Nullarbor.



A Dingo puppy, quietly come over to wait for scraps of which we had none to give

It claimed a host of caravans and mobile homes and campervans, if our very eyes are to be believed!! The caravan park was full of passers-through when we went to bed. Full and teeming with campers, winnebagoers, campervaners, and sturdy swaggers. When we awoke, only one remained. An elderly couple were packing away their camp chair after a morning cuppa, probably amazed, like us, in a state of amazement, that the Nullarbor had claimed yet more people. That we were the only ones spared, we have Divine Providence and not being morning people to thank for that I'm sure.



Look how straight and featureless the road is in all directions

It was 297 kilometres to Ceduna, and we drove along the Eyre Highway passing close enough to the Great Australian Bight to make it easy to go see. It is a large bight (it looks like a large bite if you look at the map, as though a huge chunk has been chewed off) or open bay located off the coast extending from central west to the south. The coast line of the Great Australian Bight is characterised by stunning cliff faces of up to 60 metres high and it was a relief to see the ocean, after the Nullarbor almost clamied us the night before (the siren call of lost backpackers wandering in the night looking for rolling tobacco and cheap boxes of goon).



Sand dunes in the distance at the ege of the Nullarbor

Stopping along the way at Penang Roadhouse to fill the tank up yet again, we had clocked 1358 kilometres, with only 785 to Adelaide. Quickly feeding at Ceduna, we made it to Smoky Bay before dark, managing to find people good enough at the Caravan Park there to squeeze us in at an unofficial site beside the womens toilet, as it was Easter weekend, and they were full. Moving on next morning we topped up the fuel yet again at Wundera and Windarie Roadhouses before arriving, yet again, just before dark in Port Augusta, and finding, thanks to some more goodly folk, a plot at Shoreline Caravan Park.



Not wanting to hesitate in case the Nullarbor folowed us out and tried to eat our livers with some fava beans and a nice Chianti we made headway to Adelaide next day. Arriving in Paralowie, not far from the city, just before (ahem) dark we parked up in the Caravan Park. We had driven 2,266 kilometres in six days, survived the dreaded Nullarbor and broken new records for the amount of times we said but did not act on the mantra "early bird catches the worm". We may not have caught any worms, but we survived the Nullarbor and that's fine by me.



Quarantine searches our van at Ceduna





Look very carefully at the lonely building in the distance on the Nullabor Plain

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Olive Picking - The Secrets to Becoming a Fit and Happy Octogenarian

Henrietta and Donald MAcKenzie

Henrietta and Donald MacKenzie, run an olive farm just out of Esperance town. After reading our request for odd jobs for charity Henrieta offered us work picking olives. Sounds interesting I thought. I couldn't picture what an olive grove would look like and I was interested in learning more.



Smoko at the olive grove; well earned homemade muffins and flask coffee...Mmmmm

We landed around 8am in the morning ready to work but when we arrived it seemed the couple had been hard at work already for a couple of hours tending to their horse, dogs and laying out netting around the tree in preparation for our arrival. After brief introduction over tea we headed down to the grove at the bottom of their garden.



With nets on the ground around the olive trees, we were shown how to rake the olive from the branches, allowing them to drop and be caught by the net. Henrietta and Donald worked with us all day, with full vigour and energy. It’s not easy work, arms up in the air raking at a height all day but every time I thought of giving myself a break I would look over and see Donald with his new knees pushing the wheel barrow I could barely lift and notice Henrietta powering away, putting my weak stamina to shame.



Can you believe he has just had new knees and beaten cancer?

It was surprising enjoyable work. Satisfying….like popping bubble wrap all day the olives would pop of the branches and drop to the net with a satisfying thud.



At the end of the day we three were knackered. We sat at the kitchen table over a cup of tea but Henrietta and Donald, like Ever Ready Bunnies were out tending to the animals then preparing dinner.



Anne loves to rake olives, it's the pooping as they come off the branch

Over a delicious home cooked Shepard’s pie Donald told us stories of his et setting life living in Europe, Africa and finally Australia. The couple have led such an interesting live; climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, building three homes from scratch and trying out various farming trades.



Henrietta and Donald were such inspiring people. I’ve never met an octogenarian couple so full of vim and gusto, joi de vivre and a lust for life. Retirement for them meant being as active and as busy as ever, producing Olive Oil for sale as others their age complain about daytime TV but watch it all day just the same.



Of all the days on this trip I think I learned more in the twenty four hours with Henrietta and Donald than with anyone else. I have witnessed a lifestyle for elders that I hadn’t come across before up until this point. I hope I remember to model my years on that on this amazing couple as I reach my eighties. Donald has managed to beat cancer and Henrietta is an extremely active community member, volunteering with the pony club among other interests. With an incredible past shared together they are of sharp mind, are of great physical strength and have a great deal of love for each other. This is everything most of us wish to achieve in life.



Gareth, just about to gather the olives in the net

As we said our good byes Donald handed us a signed copy of his book. Over the next few days we each read it with much interest. What an amazing couple, a pleasure to meet, an honour to talk to and a joy to work with.



With more wages for Book Aid we headed for the dreaded Nullabor.
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Fishing! We catch fish.....but alas, we don't get to eat them.

Brett Thorpe, a friend of Bruce's, took us out in his boat The Ant, the day before we left Esperance. Discovering we hadn't yet caught a fish while in Australia, he vowed to correct this anomaly, promising without doubt that we would have fish on hook in no time. A bold statement said with the conviction of an Aussie who knows fishing is Australia's biggest past time, but who is ignorant of our ability to maintain highly embarrassing fishing failures.



The ride out was great, holding on tight for fear of falling out we bounced around our seats. Once we stopped the engines to fish the boat started to take a gentle roll around the sea. Unfortunately, it was this gentle rolling that brought about an irresistible urge to sleep, a sign of sea sickness, and I slept off the final half of our fishing adventure in the cabin.



Bret Thorpe takes us fishing on The Ant

With modern equipment using sonar to locate shoals of fish we anchored up near the edge of a reef and dropped our pre baited lines in. Our first catch was hooked within seconds of our lines reaching the sea floor. We caught nannigai snapper, 'blackarse' bream, skippies, queen fish, swallow tails, and the boat pitched and rolled, and drifted, and all our previous, sad, pathetic and comedy attempts to fish, were forgotten, as Thorpie attached weights to lines, to hooks and not only actually used bait, but the proper stuff too, not just crusts of bread, and we caught fish, actually caught fish.





It took us just over half an hour to get to our fishing spot and we fished for just over three hours. The boys were able to relieve themselves over the side of the small boat easily, for me there was nowhere to go. I could hardly hang my bum over the side of the boat, and definitely not in such close proximity to four men who were taking up most of the available room on the deck. The bumpy ride home was painful, motoring against the wind and it took us about 90 minutes to get back. And I counted down the seconds in every one of those minutes.

A gull hovers around the boat waiting to steal our catch

Queen snapper














Laury catches a big cuttlefish



On our return to land we received a lesson in how to fillet a fish. We watched in awe as an enormous, colourful, pile of tropical fish were turned into a relatively tiny pile of neatly prepared fillets. As this was our final day in Esperance we had no time to actually eat any of the fish we caught and we couldn’t take it with us for lack of refrigeration. So, we only half fulfilled one of our dreams of catching a fish and eating it. We will simply have to go fishing again. Woo hoo!



Nannigai snapper



Laury is given a lesson by Bret on how to fillet different fish varieties







Gareth buries the fish in the garden



The happy three with their catches of the day, notice Laury has the biggest smile Read a cheeky bit more!

Travelling Australia without Money - Free Travel but Not Exactly a Working holiday

Picture from the Post Newspaper, Perth

We have been on the road for more than half a year now without spending a cent. We have travelled nearly 20,000kms around Australia and we have received the help of hundreds if not thousands of people.
Who would have thought it would have been possible? But living in the modern day world without the use of money is no breeze in the park and the trip is taking it's toll on us.

It isn't easy travelling in this manner, we have done everything and anything to earn money for Book Aid and some days are easier than others. Looking in the mirror we feel we have aged quickly during the last six months. The simplest of necessities becomes a trial to aquire, turning something which is usually a no brainer in life before the cheeky challenge into a stress filled challenge.

Below are some more links to people covering our story.

AS Cheeky As You Can’t team members Phil Carr, Anne Race and Gareth Owen slowed traffic last Friday as they performed odd-jobs in nothing but swimwear and a garbage bag to raise money for Book Aid International.

TRAFFIC literally came to a standstill on Esperance’s main street last Friday, as cars slowed down out of curiosity to watch three scantily clad people scrub the roundabout at the intersection of Andrew Street and The Esplanade.The three friends, Anne Race, Phil Carr and Gareth Owen, make up the As Cheeky As You Can’t fundraising team, currently travelling Australia to raise funds for Book Aid International.
To raise funds, the teams have been accepting odd jobs in the towns they have visited, however they quickly agreed that Esperance people had some of the oddest jobs on offer.

Nomads Tour for Charity
PHIL Carr, Gareth Owen and Anne Race don’t have a cent between them but they’ve managed to travel across Australia and, in the process, raise $20,000 for the charity Book Aid International.
The trio left their homes and jobs in the UK with little more than the clothes on their backs.
They rely on the generosity of those they meet for everything from their food and accommodation to phone cards and fuel.
Read more here in the Busselton - Dunsborough Mail



Bin There, Done That
There are all sorts of people travelling around Australia at any given time and it is this diversity of people that you meet that helps to make it such a special experience......Grey Nomads


Going all the way with 'cheeky' Oz challenge

BARE ESSENTIALS: Phil Carr, right, and pals Anne Race and Gareth Owen, relinquished all possessions except bin bags as they started their challenge

22,000 Italians watch a home made video of us at the begininning of our journey!!!!

See the link here

Below are some pictures that Mike Gilbert took of us filming in Perth









As lovely as the bin bag look is, we are looking forward to getting back into our own clothes at the end of our journey


Read a cheeky bit more!

Esperance Brumbys (Wild horses) - Apex and Rotary Club together to help us and Book Aid

Glorious Esperance

Luke Winter, host of the morning show on Radio West invited us into the studio and as we waited for our spot (us media types have 'spots', not appearances, they are for the GP- general public) we were made aware of the pranking that was going on, the April Fools Day Grand Fooling. Luke was spreading the story going round that ACDC were coming to town, for one night only, only for a night, and that tickets were available from Ross Beckett at the Civic Centre, and to get on down there if you want to see the worlds greatest rock band performing in Esperance Civic Centre Music Hall.



Our 4X4 tracks on Cape le Grande beach

Many went, and when they found out it was an April Fool’s hoax a few found the joke in it, some were irate and didn't see the funny side at all, and we were on air just after Luke came clean, presumably our story was drowned out by swearing and cursing and slippers hurled at radios. How can the appearance of three idiots dressed in binbags and budgie smugglers compete with the rock-it-to-the-core get-on-down of ACDC?



We stop to admire the beautiful views

We also that day went to see Paul at Esperance Glass and he agreed to fix the window that was smashed by those drunken youths, which since Perth has been patched with cardboard, sticky-tape and a plastic bag flapping in the gap to give a raggle-taggle gypsy style to the van. He was amused by our story and so agreed to help out, just bring the van in early next morning and jobsagoodun bigfella.



We went into town and popped in to see Stuart Ward, at Bay Automotive, the Holden dealership in town, who we met the night before, and he introduced us to Bruce Kelman, his partner in the business. Between these two we were subsequently to find ourselves better looked after than Queen Elizabeth's prize corgis, if those corgis be pampered then plied with more alcohol than a herd of prize rhinoceroses could manage. More on that to come though.



Look at the angle this 4X4 is riding down a rock on! We were 'holdin on tight to the Jesus bars'.

Not only were we extremely looked after in terms of work to earn money for Book Aid but we were given the star treatment in private tours of the area. Barry Wroth, another Apexian and Laurie, our home host and resident policeman were our guides for the day. In Esperance there are two kinds of people; those with a 4x4 diesel powered truck, and those who want one. And as we thundered along the sand, riding the curve of coastline from Esperance Bay towards Cape La Grande and Frenchman's Peak I wanted to hurl Barry out of his seat and into the dunes aim seaward to take this badboy into Ultimate Off-Road Territory and tear up the motherlovin seafloor. Returning to sanity as my head bounced off the roof of the car, I mentally apologised to Barry as we rebounded over yet another compacted-solid drift of sand ("oops, didn't see that one coming", said Barry, repeatedly, again and again).



Laury runs into the cool clear waters at Cape le Grande





View from the top of the rock we climbed in the 4X4s









Slowing only momentarily along the 24 kilometre stretch to observe some Brumbies (wild horses) we wasted no time in getting to Cape La Grande. But this sighting of two brumbies and their foal was, we later learned, an extremelyspecial event. For the past four year Laury, an equestrian finatic, has been hoping to sight them. We were extremely lucky to see such magnificent wild animals galloping along the beach.





Brumbies grazing in the sand dunes, Cape le Grande

The walk down was a swift one, and we careered from Cape la Grande towards Esperance Bay, along the sand again with as much head banging, jolting bounce as we had on the way ("oops, didn't even see that one coming", said Barry) and back to Laurie's, for a barbeque, some beers, and then more beers once Bruce turned up.



Later in the week, at Stuart's behest and Bruce's insistence we joined them for dinner at the Loose Goose Restaurant, then after the meal (Phil cut loosy-goosy and enjoyed the local favourite of a Lamb's Brain starter followed by a Pigs Nipples main course) we went to Sin City Niteclub, a by-invitation-only venue, a select few get to enjoy, where the chosen ones are plied with drink and forced to have fun. In Stuart's immortal phrase, "so let's get you lot fucking mashed".



Sin City; Stuart's play room



Before we got too lathered



The night gets messier



It's all Stuart's fault, he hides his horns well

Sin City is the upstairs games room in Stuart's home, replete with pinball machines and video game machines, a juke box, pool table and bar, we did what we were told and went drink-for-drink with the Stuart and Bruce, cut loose, and as everyone in turn fell, staggered, collapsed, danced around and with decreasing competence played pool and with increasing gusto sang along to the music, we got absolutely hammered, totally shitfaced and we all woke up with sore heads, inside and out, bruised temples , sore legs, red-eyed and feeling like a herd of wildebeest were rampaging through our heads, but all the better for it.



This photo and the following photos none of us can remember taking, they were all found on the following day, mementos of what happened after our memories failed us





Blurred, out of focus and underexposed pictures taken by who knows who but the carnage is noticable anyway

We were very well looked after in Esperance and the two day hangover that came after our night in Sin City was symbolic and apt. Stuart and Bruce had also collected supplies for us: food, clothing, beer, soft drinks, jerry cans, and we were overwhelmed by their generosity. From our visit to the Bay Rotary and Rotary clubs, we made more friends and more donations, helping out at the Relay for Life, serving brekkie, and receiving another $250 from Lee McKenna, Rotary President, and later fuel from the rascally lovable rogue Jock 'The Wrecker' Murray before we left.



The Rotary Club meeting

Staying with the Seatons was a lot of fun. With their three energetic children keeping us entertained there was never a dull moment.



Laury riding his horse



It was a truly amazing experience in Esperance, and that word is not here used lightly. From the scheming of Derek, to the generosity of Stuart and Bruce, to the charm of the Seaton's, and the warmth and gregariousness of everyone else, we had been treated to a real community's efforts to welcome us, and help us raise the money. That we had to strip down and smuggle-up to benefit from this overwhelming tide of positivity and munificence was the least we could do. Frostbite yer todger? In a heartbeat.





Rachel, one of the most energetic ladies we have met



Rowan



Sarah



Liam





We start work at 5am to help make 500 breakfasts for Relay for Life participants, well done to all those who participated



Phil with Rotary Club president, Lee






Brian and Paul of Brumbys Esperance donate bread for our Nullarbor trek

Read about us in Esperance local paper here Read a cheeky bit more!

Smuggling Budgies in Esperance

Passed along the Apex Australia grapevine, we were put in touch with Derek Clarke in Esperance. Esperance is on West Australia's southern coast and a short drive from Ravensthorpe where we were staying with friends of Derek's sister Mazz, Jenny and Andrew Chambers, on their wheat farm. Over dinner at the Chambers' the night before we set off for Esperance, Mazz had warned us about Derek, "he's not like me at all, I don't know where he gets it from". Gets what, we asked. "He's very... dramatic" was all she would say.



View from Frenchman's Peak Hill

Dramatic? True enough. We had received this text message from him the day before: Do you guys know what Budgie Smugglers are? With no further elaboration, we tried to put the squeeze on Mazz, to see if she knew what her brother was up to. Clearly under orders not to reveal more and spoil the surprise, all she would say was that "my brother has a real taste for the dramatic. I'm not supposed to tell you any more. He..." and she tailed off as we hung our fork-fulls mid air, mouths agape, wondering what in the name of dancing Beelzebubs we had gotten ourselves into.



Budgie Smugglers? Errant, flair-for-the-dramatic brothers swearing their sisters to secrecy? This was all very cloak-and-dagger, too Mr Mustard in the Drawing Room with a gold chandelier. What pact had we entered into when we accepted the offer of assistance from the Apex Australia club? Would we ever be the same again? Who supplied the budgies and where were we to smuggle them to? Would Phil, who regularly sleeps with one eye open, now keep watch with two? Our fate was out of our hands and an enigmatic riddle was unfolding. We had no choice but to walk smack-bang into it.



Climbing up Frenchman's Peak was not the easy stroll we first thought it would be

We drove smack-band into Derek’s scheming by early afternoon (regular subscribers to our blogsite will undoubtedly know by now the regularity with which we arrive places ‘early/late evening’, as intrepidity may be a full-time state of mind, but it doesn’t really kick in until the fourth or fifth cup of coffee after waking up. This note is for all you who take notice, who really care, and who take pride in pointing these things out). He had contacted us as we approached Esperance, telling us to meet him in a lay-by, outside the town, in the Information Bay, and to ring him when we were there.



What? Why are we? Uh? He said what? And we just wait and? Ah? That’s what he said to what? Eh? These words and more like them we inarticulated as we waited for Derek “Drama” Clarke to meet us. It was all very Mission Impossible – enigmatic Budgie Smuggler codewords, secret itineraries, secure location ‘meets’ - who was this man, this Dr Strangelove who orchestrated all this? (You exshpect ush to talk? - No, Cheekyasyoucants, I expect you to die!)



Barry Wroth and Laury Seaton make sure Phil doesn't forget his bucket

Half-expecting a blacked out anonymous-looking car to glide along the gravel path towards us and for a besuited bowler-hat wearing, stocky, strong-arm Chinaman killer-assassin-chauffeur to open the passenger door and for an egg-headed oddball scar-faced evil genius to emerge to tell us our fate, we were surprised when Derek drove up to us in a perky white car, and emerged from it smiling, looking normal, but smiling a smile all the time.



We make it to the top. Anne now has more to worry about than her fear of heights

He introduced himself then handed us our itinerary; a map of Esperance; directions to the Seton's whose house we would be staying in; a voucher to buy some lunch at the Jetty Café; and our activities for the next two days, starting with the Apex meeting that night, where we would have explained to us what the list of challenges intricately associated with Budgie Smugglers and enigmatically entitled Wash a Beret, Scrub a Seal and Clean a Car actually meant. Still smiling, he laughed, then abruptly said goodbye, and left us in the lay-by, waving us off, still smiling, and laughing, and we felt worried, confused, and deeply, deeply concerned that Derek was some kind of sick twisted sicko. As it turns out we were only half right.



Stood Half Naked on Frenchmans Peak we celebrate that Challenge 1 is Completed

We parked up at Laurie and Rachel Seton's home, greeted enthusiastically by Rachel, as Laurie, Apex Club President, and Policeman, was working. She showed us to the annexed building which was to be our home for the next week, and we settled in, then went to the Apex meeting to discover our fate and see what all this clandestine maneuvering had been leading us towards. We had heard of the secretism and furtiveness of the Masons, but also of the covert and hidden nature of the Ku Klux Klan. Was this somewhere in between? What did they have against budgies anyway?



Well, now we know what budgie smugglers are!

We found out soon enough though. Arriving at the meeting in the Bay of Isles Hotel for the 6.30pm rendezvous we were met by Derek, who took us inside and put us at our ease, introducing us to members Stewart Ward and Ross Beckett, who in turn introduced us to the others. Before long we were taken into the meeting room, and introduced to everyone else, as they went through the procedural and practical machinations of running a service club.


We wash a Frenchman's Peak Hill

Apex is the only Australian made service club, being founded in Geelong, Victoria, during the 1930s depression by three young architects. The three, sons of Rotarians, had wanted to join a Rotary club but because they shared the same profession, were not allowed. So they formed Apex. Now an Australia wide organization Apex clubs are made up of members aged 18 to 45, of both men and women, and youth clubs consisting of young Australians aged up to 18.



At the beginning of the meeting acting President Ross Beckett (Laurie was on duty, catching perps) asked Derek to voice the Ideals of Apex, that summarise the aims and aspirations of the Apexians. He stood and repeated verbatim that it was their goal: "To make the ideal of service the basis of all enterprise; To develop by example a more intelligent and aggressive citizenship; To provide a means of forming enduring friendships, rendering altruistic service and building better communities; To promote international understanding and friendship". Then asked as a matter of protocol to repeat the mission statement, he declared, with a smile in our direction, that it was "To grow, learn, make friends, and have fun, while helping others".



Gareth working away at task number two

He then sat down and the meeting went through its motions. After dinner was served we were asked to speak, and after the explaining was done, we sat and answered questions. Then it was time to reveal what it was we were to be doing, and what the mystery had been all about. Individual envelopes were handed to the three of us, and one by one, we were asked to open them to reveal our challenges.



Challenge 1: Wash a Beret. Sponsored to the tune of $250 by the Esperance Apex Club. We were to climb to the top of Frenchman's Peak, a hilltop lookout, and, with only a bucket and a toothbrush, clean the top of it, wearing only a pair of Budgie Smugglers

Challenge 2: Clean a car. Sponsored for $250 by the Bay Automotive Group. We were to clean all the cars in their used car lot, again, wearing only the Budgie Smugglers.

Challenge 3: Scrub a Seal. Sponsored for $250 by Bay of Isles Computers. We were to scrub, using only toothbrushes, all the birdshit off the seal statues in the fountain in the roundabout in the middle of town, wearing, again, only the Budgie Smugglers.



By then, of course, we had a fair idea what 'Budgie Smugglers' were, so when Derek produced from a goody bag a pair of (brand new, thank god) skin-tight swimming trunks (bathers? cossies? togs?) for Phil and I, we were not surprised, but imagining ourselves in them in public took some doing and was an image best pushed aside. We were learning that we were going to have to earn our donations. The date for the challenge was set for early the following day, so, presumably, we could not scarper and do a runner.



On the Thursday, Laurie had a day off, and he suggested we take a drive around the beach to Cape la Grande, and up Frenchman's Peak, where we could complete Challenge 1. As promised, we packed our budgie smugglers. Unloading the cars we were then loaded with the buckets, the water, the toothbrushes and (for those of us endowed by nature with one) our budgies, which were tucked away snugly, and we ascended Frenchman's Peak. The view top was breathtaking, with a panorama of Esperance Bay and beyond. In the matter of minutes, though, the view was a whole lot less pleasant, as bare flesh goosepimpled by the biting wind, and wedgie-snapped milk white cheeks punched each other inside over-tight speedos, and the budgie in us withered and shrank away, as we cleaned and clenched then through gritted teeth performed our task, completing our challenge, and abandoning our dignity.



The day of the challenges and we were ready and waiting, willing and wanting to get it all over and done with, asap, no-questions-asked, get-in get-out, no messing around up and attem. We arrived gingerly at the Bay Automotive Group. Stuart and Bruce showed us their used car lot, and all 50 vehicles waiting to be cleaned and took the piss. Stuart then introduced us to Brownie, who usually does the job alone and fully-clothed, and to his credit, he took it in his stride.



We were both of us smuggling before long and as the traffic swerved and veered to catch sight of us (or having caught sight been blinded by the reflection off a gleaming 'ttock) and whistled and jeered and put protective palms over innocent kiddies eyes, we were lathering up a storm, washing the cars with both efficiency and sexiness, showing more thigh than a Butcher's shop window, with more bounce than a seal rookery during the mating season.



After being presented with our cheque by Stuart and Bruce, we drove off to out next challenge in a courtesy car, our van being given a full service by the mechanics at Bay Automotive, much to Stuart's chagrin as he joked "they're givin ya the works, I told em to check the oil and change a windscreen wiper for ya, but they never bloody listen to me", and waited for Derek Clarke at the Roundabout on the intersection of Andrew St and The Esplanade.



Sarah, an Apexian collects extra donations in the form of viewing the nutters tax

We had lost one of the toothbrushes we were to use to clean the seal statues, presented to us at the Apex Meeting (the vortex that is the inside of the van swirls at a rate three hundred thousand times faster than even the fastest of washing machines - that is: fast - nothing is where you put it, even if you say you put it there, which you probably did, but three dimension changes ago. The Vortex ) and told Derek that, drat, golly-darn, and oh, no, we're one peg-brush down, and ..tch.. ooh.



We scrub away at the seagull poo with our toothbrushes

"Not to worry" says a beaming Derek 'Drama' Clarke, "I took the precaution of bringing an extra one each, just in case, so you can all get stuck in. Here you go", and he presented us with a choice selection. I took one with the double-brush-action with the thick-set tubi-grip and smiling through my teeth at Drama we proceeded to the roundabout, got semi-nakeed in public and clambered into the middle of it, took up a seal each and scrubbed.



To say that it was humiliating would be to assume we had much shame or sense of self-worth remaining in us after the two previous challenges. There was a steady stream of cars passing by. Some circled and drove circuits to get a better look, others were visibly disgusted, some laughed and cheered us on, the hoot-tooting of car horns continuous. Sarah and Ross Beckett stopped drivers and shook the tin collecting donations for us. Any ideas we may have harboured about this being a publicity stunt for five minutes for the local paper were swiftly banished, as Derek, still smiling, took picture after picture, reminding us at one stage that "you only have another forty-five minutes left guys, well done". Only?



We laugh at the expressions of drivers passing by as they see us at work

We scrubbed and cleaned and got stuck in. Now we're not sure why he did it, but Drama told us half-way through the challenge that "it's lucky you're doing this today, because on Monday the council are cleaning it all with power washers, and then there'd be no birdshit left for you guys to clean eh". Lucky wasn't the word that immediately sprang to mind really.



Toothbrushes in the air, Challenge 3 is completed

Paul Wenegal, from Bay of Isles Computers, who sponsored us for this challenge arrived just as we were finishing up our Indignity Hour, having scrubbed all the crap we could find. It felt strange being back in clothing. And although it was cold us budgie smugglers are a toughened breed, but our budgies were withering and needed a nice warm bed.



Paul, the man responsible for challenge number 3



Two minutes after we finish cleaning the seagull poo the birds are back undoing our work, laughing at us with their caws.


Read a cheeky bit more!

Our two Death Filled Encounters with Whales - Beaching and Hunting

The Cheynes Whalechaser

'To see whales', this was always up there on our wish list for Aussie experiences. But I could never have guessed the way I would be first introduced to them would be so dissapointing and sad.



Unfortunately, our first encounter with with whales wasn't exactly a happy affair, nor a real encounter. We were in Margaret River when we heard the news over the radio. More than 70 whales and dolphins had been stranded just down the coast at Hamelin Bay in a mass stranding. The survivors were to be moved to a new location and all the dead whales were to be moved out of the water to stop sharks coming inland to feast on the dead and even those still fighting for life.



We decided to go and help try to save the remaining eleven that survived the initial stranding, driving as fast as we could given our strict 80km/h economising speed limit. Heading straight to the beach armed with towels, we thought about what kind of work we would probably have to do as a volunteer. But it wasn't to be. The road to the beach was blocked.



Given 3D glasses we watched the underwater world come to life during a film shown in one of their old whale oil storage tanks.

Informed by a steward that we could only volunteer our services if we had full length wet suits we were stopped in our tracks and told to turn around and go back. Dejected, feeling a little uselesss, and sad about hearing that more of the whales didn't make it, we returned to Margaret River with somewhat less of our precious fuel, all towels dry.



Volunteers who did have the proper whale saving wear showed great perserverance saving those few that made it. The dead whales are fairly scratched up because they washed in over rocks and we watched news footage of volunteers crying over those that couldn't be saved. The dead whales were transported to a waste disposal area within the Shire of Augusta-Margaret River. The Shire provided resources and equipment for this process.



Earlier in the year, 194 pilot whales and seven dolphins became stranded on a sandbar in Tasmania and only 54 whales and five dolphins were able to be saved. In January, 45 sperm whales died after becoming beached on a different Tasmanian sandbar. The reasons behind these mass strandings are still a mystery. It was sad that this happened - we are still yet to see a live whale.



Along with mass beaching in the area effecting whale numbers, the whales around here were once hunted to near extinction. Albany was once the home of whaling and sealing in Australia, the first recognized industry in the young country in those days. Gradually, from the beginning of the 1800s the local whaling ventures were joined in the seas around Albany by American, French and British whaling ships, with the Norwagians joining in later too to chase firstly the Southern Right, then the Humpback and Sperm whales, and it continued until 1978, when legal changes made the operation untenable.

All the original equipment are on display at Whale World

We visited Whale World, Albany where we were donated with free entrance tickets to find out more. Although learning about whaling was hardly a sustitute for seeing live whales migrate along the Australian coast, it was a surprisingly enthralling experience.

Situated on the site of the old Cheynes Beach Whaling Station, located on the picturesque southern coast of King George Sound in Albany, Western Australia. The station ceased whaling operations and was decommissioned in 1978. Now an international tourist icon, it is also acknowledged as one of the State's most significant tourist attractions.



This old whaling station turned whaling museum with help from the Lottery Foundation was gave us a great insight into the whaling trade. With an actual whaling ship beached on the shores open to the public, along with exhibitions show casing all aspects of the trade, from the flensing deck where the whales were cut up to enormous full skeletons where you can feel their grand size.



Parasites plague whale skins, here are a few that can be seen in pickling jars



Informative photos of the whaling trade found at Whale World





Read a cheeky bit more!

Denmark, Albany and Ravensthorpe -

Denmark, a safe haven for lovely blouses and pinched cheeks

We made it to Denmark before the day was out, and the quaint English countryside feeling continued to grow. Gone were the days of the grizzled Aussie sausage-sizzle, this was a place of pate, and wine, riverside picnics and oh-my-don't-you-look-well-in-that-smashing-blouse conversations. But, of course, Denmark's past grew out of harsher soil.



Ghost gum tree branches look beautiful against a blue sky

It grew out of the timber industry in the 1870s, and the railway that interlinked it with the logging towns of Albany and Torbay which produced timber to send to the goldmine in Kalgoorlie, as the demand for timber grew significantly while the mine expanded. Settlers to Denmark were given the herculean task of clearing the land for pasture, which, of course, meant chopping the giant Karri and Tingle trees down. The timber industry has slowed dramatically over the years though, and it is with relief that we heard this.





Greens Pool ,Denmark is a shelter of calm clear waters

Because the loveliness of south-west WA is really, well, lovely. It is very easy to love the landscape, with none of the harshness of the vast Outback. It certainly is a picture: the pastures, fields, little hills, vineyards and forests of huge, elegant trees in an autumnal hue, a cool breeze and swaying grasses; the rolling Indian Ocean o'er yonder hillock, and the sand-carpeted beaches and granite outcrops that lie ever so invitingly and not too far away.











Arriving in Albany next day the breeziness continued. Invited to dinner at his restaurant, Nonna's, later that evening by Michael John Delli-Bendetti, we were also assured of a morning's work next day, helping him build a wall. Joanna, owner of the YHA Backpackers could not do enough for us, and Wayne, owner of the local pub, decided we were worth the donation of a "carton of piss", ('case of beer' in English). It seemed that Albany had deicided to join in with the lovely-theme of the past few days.



Elephant Rocks; it's clear to see the reasons for the moniker



We stayed in Albany over the weekend, earning donations while there, and enjoying the friendliness and ease of being there.



Albany





The natural bridge in Torndirrup, Albany



Next stop, we stayed with Jenny and Andrew Chambers, at Yoorooga Farm, in Ravensthorpe, about 300 kilometres from Albany. We had been put in touch with Jenny via Derek Clarke in Esperance, an Apex man contacted by Mike Gilbert in Perth. Derek's sister, Mazz, was a neighbour of the Chambers' and it was a lovely home cooked roast that greeted us as we arrived.



Gareth and Phil with the lovely Jenny Chambers



The chambers family, Maz and friends



Phil and Gareth accidentally lock themselves out on the veranda while they were washing windows, a passer by had to rescue them

Jenny had organised some work for us the next day at the Ravensthorpe Community Centre where she works, for which we were handsomely paid, squeezing in a gardening job with Jessie and Geoff Fairhead, who read of our trip in the local paper.



We're becoming dab hands at gardening





Phil sweeps away the cobwebs in a grand old room at Ravensthorpe community centre



Leaving Ravensthorpe, en route to Esperance, we were warned by Mazz that Derek had something planned for us, something grand and steeped in mischief, a flourish of activities and to-doings, and we drove towards his scheme, with but the words "budgie-smugglers", his only clue, reverberating in our heads.

Read a cheeky bit more!

Gloucester Tree, Pemberton and The Valley of the Giants - Climb at your our Peril

The boys get to the top of Glouchester Tree

We got to Pemberton early evening, settled into the Pemberton Motel and upon a little investigation found ourselves deep in the splendour of the Karri forests. It was with no small sense of wonder that we explored, head tilted, mouth open and eyes wide. Growing up to 90 metres high, the Karri trees (eucalyptus diversicolour) are one of the tallest hardwoods in the world, the Californian Redwood, at more than 100 metres, is thought to be the tallest. The main belt of Karri forest grows south from Nannup to Manjimup, through Pemberton, then east towards Denmark, and Torbay, near Albany and is a truly wonderful sight.



Phil climbing Glouchester Tree

Having spent so long in the treeless wonder of the Outback, that vast expanse of struggling shrubs and hardy, wizened vegetation, the experience of the Karri forests was exhilirating and staggering. They are beautiful trees and the wonder of the South-West. They have a straight trunk with perfectly smooth bark, which is shed each year. The outer bark changes colour as it matures, so that the trunks are multi-coloured in different shade of pink, orange, and silver-white.



This tree has a 61m climb to the top, I'm 3m off the ground here, this is as high as I got

In Pemberton, the Gloucester National Park is the home of the Gloucester Tree, a 61 metre tree that was once a fire lookout, one of many in a network of lookouts built in the Karri forests between 1937 and 1952, and the only one surviving, if only as a lookout for tourists. It is a hair-rising climb by hand and foot up the steel pegs that coil their way upward, but the view at the top is breathtaking as you look over the canopy. It occured to a few of us, as we stood at its base and looked at the sign, that more or less told everyone not to climb if they thought they might fall, that in the minefield of hidden hazards and potential dangers even the simplest of activities contain, and the surge of rules, guidelines and Health and Safety instructions about everything and anything from fitting a lightbulb (working at heights) to picking your nose (unlicensed mining) that there would be more fuss, shall we say, over ascending on jabbed-in steel pegs a 61 metre tree. But, as it was "Don't Fall, Mate", covered it pretty well and quite succinctly we thought.






Nornalup Countryside



Franklin River


We give thanks to Tony and Marge who run, own and manage, with aplomb and joi'de verve, the Nornalup Riverside Chalets, and who not only gave us a place to stay but a canoe with which to explore the Frankland river, a hop skip and a jump away.






The next day and it was to the Walpole-Nornalup National Park and the Valley of the Giants. Just east of Pemberton a tree top walk has been constructed around the the giant Tingle Tree forest. Home also to the graceful Yellow Tingle (eucalyptus guilfoylei) and the grizzled, mighty Red Tingle (eucalyptus jacksoni) the Tingle trees are native to and grow only in this corner of south-west WA, with the high rainfall providing the perfect conditions for them. They are tall, elegant trees, growing up to 75 metres. The Red Tingle notable because of the thickness of its base, with a buttressed circumference of up to 20 metres as it roots in shallow soil and spreads the weight. Some of the Red Tingle trees have hollows in the trunk, making them look like they stand on two legs. A famous picture there shows a car parked inside one, as people picnic beside it.



Walpole-Nornalup National Park Valley of the Giants walkway

To protect the forest from the ravages of cars parked in tree trunks, a canopy walkway was erected in the 1990s. Occupying only 4 square metres of the forest floor, it is a boardwalk, up to 40 metres high at points, that loops through the forest, and was erected with pulleys, hoists and hydraulic jacks, and supported by steel pylons. The walk meanders through the Tingle and Karri trees, and is a memorable experience as you realize that you are far up and looking at a part of a tree that you do not usually see in such up-close proximity.



Anne walks through a Red Tingle notable because of the thickness of its base, with a buttressed circumference






A fallen tree in the Valley of the Giants





Many of the Red Tingles survive fires which eat through the centre of the tree leaving a charred walkway through the butressed base



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