Ooh, my aching wallet

Well, my Tasmania trip is now booked and paid for thanks to my flexible friend. I’ve sorted a 6-day whistle-stop trek with Adventure Tours, the same company I did the Red Centre with. Tuesday onwards are going to be rather hectic!

I check out of here in the morning and fly to Launcestone on Tasmania in the afternoon, getting there around 10pm. I have a brief overnight in a hostel, then jump on a local bus down to Hobart. I should be there by lunchtime which doesn’t give me very long to see the place, unfortunately. Then the next morning, I get collected and spend six days circling the island and seeing the sights.

Back to Hobart on the 27th in time to get some dinner, sort out my luggage and get to the airport as I have a 6am flight to Canberra.

Grand total including my flights, bus fare, accommodation, food and the trip is around £500. I really wish this silly country would let me work! Stupid flipping rule about having to be under thirty.

As an aside, if you’re over here doing shopping then I recommend Coles for your fresh fruit and veg, not Woolworths. Woolies’ stuff is invariably over-ripe and doesn’t keep more than a day. Heck, there wasn’t even any point in buying the kiwi fruit they had for sale yesterday – they were just waiting to explode!

Back to the main story after that word from our sponsors… I got a call from Jacqui and Steve, two friends I know online, and they invited me over to their local for a few beers. And karaoke. In honesty, I wasn’t in a “going out” mood by that time as I was a little tired, but this was to be my last Saturday in Perth (unless I return) so I decided to make the effort.

Damn glad I did. As ever, the best nights out are the unplanned, un-looked-forward-to ones. A quick, pleasant train ride to Carlisle (yes, Carlisle!) and I found them in the Carlisle Hotel. Beer in hand, I sat down, we got chatting and we watched and listened to a varied mix of karaoke talent (and lack of it).

At no point did I sing. Honest. Don’t believe anyone who says any different. They’re all liars. Or they were drunk and their memories faded.

So thanks to Jacqui and Steve for the invite, as well as Mel (their daughter) and her friend who’s name escapes me, for making me feel so welcome. I had a cracking night and even got a lift home at the end of it!

Musical rooms (again!)

I’m now in my fourth room at the Witch’s Hat, as I’ve been shifted again. My own fault for only booking a couple of days at a time! At least I’ve been lucky enough to get a room – I know people who’ve had to shift hostels for a day or two.

Other than that, it’s been a fairly quite day. I’ve done a little more plotting for the 1000 Mile Walk down at the library. I have to say, the State Library here’s pretty darn neat. Loads of lovely reference books including some road atlases of Europe. I now know how far 1000 miles is in relation to Europe. And I’m panicking. Argh.

I treated myself to a decent dinner for getting all that work done. Mince, spuds, carrots, peas and HP sauce (which I finally obtained from the Vietnamese grocery over the road). All mushed up and piping hot. Lovely.

Also, I’ve worked out when I’m leaving. Flights are booked from here to Launceston (Tasmania) on Tuesday, then Hobart to Canberra on Feb 28th. I get a whole day and one overnight there before getting the 18:00 Greyhound to Sydney! With any luck, Emma can meet me for a drink on her birthday. I owe her as she’s been a great help sorting out my hostel, bus and itinerary for my short visit.

Minted!

I ended up in another new room when I got back to the Witch’s Hat, this time sharing with an Irish and an English girl. They went out about the same time I went to bed, but I slept rather soundly and only heard one of them doing her best to be quiet when she crept in at I don’t know what time.

Fortunately, I don’t think she realised I’d stirred as she undressed for bed. Nice bum! I hasten to add that it was pretty much near-darkness and I didn’t realise what I was seeing until it was too late to get my camera close my eyes.

At 6am, the same girl was crawling back out of bed as she had a flight to catch back home, poor sod. She was, again, as quiet as could be but it didn’t matter as the bin lorry arrived as she was packing. Ever heard three lowly paid council workers emptying several wheelie bins full of glass bottles? It’s loud. Even I couldn’t sleep through it.

After breakfast, I got talking to Margaret the Irish girl in the room. We decided to wander down to the Mint in town which I’d been planning for about 6 days. It’s definitely worth the visit if you’re in Perth. It’s the oldest currently functioning mint in Australia, though it produces bullion bars and coins rather than general currency. All that is now made at the new mint near the airport.

If you do go, check any kind of discount card you may have. They take a lot, including YHA/VIP and it gets you 10% off or thereabouts. I also found a voucher in one of the tour guide books which got me a "free silver coin" – an old 1960’s three penny bit! It’s only tiny, but a nice souvenir.

There’s not a huge amount to see at the Mint, but what’s there is fascinating. Every hour there’s a gold-pouring demonstration where a staff member melts around $160,000 worth of gold them pours it into an ingot. The whole procedure is described and some history of the building is gone into. When they decomissioned it from full-time gold production, even the soot on the ceiling was refined – and $20,000-worth of gold retrieved from it!

In a sealed perspex box there is a gold bar you can try and lift up. It’s darn heavy. Also, a set of scales linked to the current exchange rate will tell you your value in dollars if you were made of gold.

All in all, really only an hour or so’s wandering but enjoyable enough for our $8.80.

I picked up two tickets for Ghostrider tonight at the Piccadilly. Toni has checked out of the hostel, but as I type the person who was supposed to collect her and put her up for a few nights hasn’t appeared. Oh dear. And the hostel’s fully booked now. Oh dear, oh dear. Well, we’ll kill some time with the film tonight and see what transpires!

Later…

Toni is now checked back into the hostel in the same room I was moved to. The guy who was supposed to be putting her up has gone utterly AWOL. As for Ghostrider… if it were any cheesier, it’d be for sale in the delicatessen at Asda. Superb special effects, plot-by-numbers, painful dialogue.

As I’m typing this up, I’m enduring Walk the Line and forcing large qantities of free date/walnut pudding and caramel sauce down my neck. I wonder which will be the first to make me ill.

Most definitely not a crap dive

I got out of bed around 7am, but I’d been awake since before six. Ah well.

As I walked back to the hostel from breakfast at McD’s, the dive company rang me to ask where I was. They’d arrived at the hostel and banged on all the doors, and nobody knew where I was! Well, if you will turn up five minutes early… Scott, the Dive Master and ute driver, did a u-turn and found me on the second attempt. We had a good natter on the way to Geographe Bay. There I was kitted out and met the others I’d be diving with. One local, an Irish girl and an English girl with 298 dives to her name!

With the staff – one pilot, one dive master (not including the English paying customer) and one assistant-DM we nicely filled the dinky boat and shot off at breakneck speed for the HMAS Swan wreck. This is a frigate, deliberately scuppered on my birthday in 1997 to create an artificial reef. The Aussie diver with us had been down there the year after it went down and was still shiny and metallic. He was doing a deep diving course today, which also included a trip round the now-furry vessel. Oh, as it turns out, Hopper at the Witch’s Hat was part of the group who organised the scuppering. Pretty impressive thing to say you were involved with!

This was my first wreck dive and it was an amazing experience. Most of the dangerous parts of the ship have been removed – things like the propellor and doors. Edges have been kept as blunt as possible and gaps are plenty wide enough to swim through. Having said that, I did snag my main respirator feed at one point. Given that I am actually mildly claustrophobic I’m amazed, looking back, that I didn’t freak out.

It’s all very Titanic down there (though sadly no dead annoying cherubic American actors) with the captain’s chair even remaining for you to sit on. Some areas are pitch dark and on our second dive we were provided with torches so we’d not lose our guide.

The wreck’s pretty large, though it’s hard to appreciate that when you first get there as visibility is only around 15m. You simply can’t see enough of it in one go to realise how large it is. Definitely recommended, though.

Between the two dives, we motored five minutes away and moored near a beautiful beach with crystal clear waters to drink tea and eat sticky buns. And for me to strip my wetsuit off, dive in and pretend to relax while relieving my bladder. Well, if fish can do it in the sea then so can I.

After the second dive, we zoomed back to Busselton. There we guzzled more tea, refilled tanks, and swapped the Aussie and Irish divers for the English girl’s sister – who’d not done a dive in five years. After the quick turnaround, we launched the boat airborne a few times on the five-minute ride to the Busselton Jetty – the longest wooden jetty in the southern hemisphere at 2km long. I’m not sure if this includes the 10m at the end that’s no longer attached to the rest. Wooden jetties are great for attracting marine life, but they rot far too easily and never seem to be well maintained. Up until a few years ago, a train ran along the length of the jetty, but no more due to safety concerns.

Even around sea level, there are signs warning divers to stay back as the structure is unsafe. This is the same structure into which has been built an 8m-deep underwater “observatory” for those who want to see the underwater world without getting wet. As a diver you’re not allowed within 10m of this window, but you can sit nonchalantly on a huge sunken anchor nearby and wave at the humans, hopefully not scaring them too much.

The area around the jetty is teaming with life. Nudibranches, coral, squid, octopi, cuttlefish, angel fish… More than I can name, mainly because I simply didn’t recognise them. And they’re all so tame, you can “hover” a couple of feet above any given species and just watch it go about its daily business. Swimming through a shoal of fish as if it was an intangible curtain is a wonderful experience.

We had an hour down there, during which time the two sisters and the two staff went their own ways, while I was left to my own devices with my camera. The only disappointment of the day was my battery conking out just as I discovered a very tame cuttlefish which let me follow it about in good light. The one I did get photos of was hiding under a rock and hasn’t come out in the photos.

At the dive shop, I enjoyed probably the best hot shower I’ve had this year and was given the remains of the sticky bun to take home – a huge bread-loaf-sized lump of it! This went down very well when I got back to the hostel where it was shared out.

The staff of The Dive Shed even made sure I was dropped off right at the coach station office in good time for the bus back. I’d recommend them as a dive company any day of the week. Relaxed, fun, great attitude and lovely sticky buns! The cost of the three dives, including full kit hire, was a very reasonable $215 as well – less than I’d been quoted.

The bus back was fairly uneventful. I read a lot more and “babysat” for the woman in front of me while she nipped to the loo. Her son in the seat next to her was a very cute 6 month old with the endearing quality of smiling at strangers instead of screaming at them. Too cute!

A night away from Perth

I didn’t do a whole heck of a lot today apart from pack up and mull around, chatting to other backpackers. At lunchtime I dumped my laptop in reception for safekeeping, hoisted my (amazingly lightweight) rucksack and plodded the 25 minutes down to the main bus depot.

There I checked in for the 13:15 to Busselton and was given a nice blue tag for my bag which I left on a shelf. All luggage handled by the staff – nice. I sat and had a very tasty chicken and veg pie then boarded the comfy coach for the roughly four-hour trip south to Busselton.

I napped for a fair bit of the trip and read for the rest while listening to my MP3 player. Time passed amazingly quickly and we arrived in Busselton slightly late. The driver was really friendly, and cut a few stops where he knew people weren’t getting off to save some time. Also, he cut our stop in Bunbury short but as a compromise announced that passengers could bring hot drinks on board as long as they made sure they were drunk before the next stop so he could dispose of them without getting in trouble!

In Busselton the staff at the South West Coach Lines office kindly directed me to Phat Sam’s Busselton Backpackers where I was bedding down for the night. Full marks to the coach company – $54 return (cash only) for a very comfy coach ride. The bus even had a loo – something I don’t think they’re legally allowed in the UK/Europe any more. You don’t get them in Asia either, but that’s more because they take up space that more paying passengers could occupy – and you can always stop and pee at the side of the road there as well.

The Backpackers’ was rather uninspiring but I’ve stayed in much worse. At least it had a kitchen (which I didn’t use, choosing to try out Chicken Treat for a rather uninspiring burger) and comfy single beds, though there seemed to only be two bathrooms (one loo and shower in each) between three or four dorms. Having said that, I never queued so I can’t complain. Most everyone else there was working with an early start so they were winding down for the day when I arrived and all asleep by the time I got in from seeing Apocalypto at the nearby cinema. This is one of Mel Gibson’s artistic “masterpieces”, and is basically Braveheart glued badly to First Blood with a Mayan soundtrack. Come back Lethal Weapon, all is forgiven…

I had a poor night’s sleep, mainly due to one muppet in the dorm I could have smacked had I not been so knackered. I’m fairly certain he was an Aussie, but looked like a “native American”. Every 2-3 hours, he’d wake up and stumble to the kitchen. There he’d make a lot of racket, then stagger back into the dorm, fire up a bong (!), take a few gurgling tokes and then crash out again. Of course, this meant the (non-smoking) dorm reeked.