Ozmosis

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What an incredible part of Australia the southeastern tip is. There’s so much to explore down there, loads of bushland, forest, and an incredible coastline. And it’s absolutely teeming with birds and other wildlife.

There’s a healthy amount of hiking infrastructure down there too, and so, of course, I went in, hell-for-leather-boots, to explore it.

The Great Ocean Walk

Miranda and I did this stunning 8 day hike, from the coastal town of Apollo Bay, all the way through to the Twelve Apostles, near Port Campbell, a distance of about 110km. It was absolutely amazing, the track was incredibly varied, from cliffs, beaches and coastal scrub, to forest and a bit of farmland, to grassy inlets, lakes and wetlands.

The hike itself wasn’t too difficult, there were a few steep parts, but mostly the track was well graded, well marked and easy to navigate.

It was stunningly beautiful, the photos speak for themselves.

Miranda having a leg stretch before the real leg stretch

I got the risotto in the pub in Apollo Bay, especially because there was lard ass butter in it. It was delicious. The risotto that is. I asked the staff about the butter. They had no idea about it. Well that’s what they said anyway.

Happy tigerey

The coastal rock formations were unbelievable

Nature’s eye

One of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen. It lasted forever

On the first or second night I was wandering barefoot around the camp when I came a cropper, up against a protruding tree root. It bloody hurt. My toes reminded me of the event for much of the walk.

Miranda blending in

Bush mechanics

Roo tracks

Sunset whisky stop

Miranda hanging on for dear life.

Lee and Mikki wearing rain gear, so we didn’t need to.

There’s only really Seven Apostles these days. People are deserting Christianity in droves. They just need to let women in, unlearn their weird theory that sex is bad, and admit that half their priests are gay, and that’s ok, and that the other half are pedophiles, and that’s not ok. Don't hold your breath though.

It was an amazing 8 days of hiking. The country we passed through was absolutely stunning, we saw so much wildlife, birds, beautiful vegetation, and we met some amazing hikers (like Mikki and Lee, who took us back to Melbourne and hung out with us). We had many beautiful moments on the track.

And then, suddenly, it was back to civilisation, back to the unreal world.

Post hike belly stuffing, at the Lebanese Cedar Bakery in Preston. Shukran jazilan lak, cobber. Bloody delicious.

Tasmania

Manu went down to Tassie to sing with the Gondwana National choir, I decided to join her for one of the gigs, and to hang with her during the day a bit, if possible.

But …. bummer …. after a whole week of rehearsals she got Covid, and was forced to isolate alone in her hotel room, and didn’t even get to sing in any of the amazing concerts she’d been rehearsing for ages for. So disappointing, although somehow she managed to be ok with it. Pretty amazing. We had to chat at a distance, through an open hotel room door.

So instead I spent the days visiting some iconic Tassie sights, like Wineglass Bay on the Freycinet Peninsula, and Port Arthur, an old penal settlement, on the Tasman Peninsula.

Hobbit Town quaintness

The famous Wineglass Bay, on the Freycinet loop hike

The council must’ve removed all the wineglasses, because I didn’t see any.

On the other side of the pen. Incredibly glassy. Incredibly beautiful.

Japanese whisky bar and restaurant, the sake and whisky fumes were so strong the bottles were levitating

Port Arthur, down past Eaglehawk Neck. Make up yer bloody mind. Was it an eagle or a hawk?

They ran out of stone for this hut, so completed it with Lego

The settlement Commandant’s pad, from where he could keep an eye on all the proceedings. I guess that makes it an eyepad.

The eggs probs wouldn’t be that great after all this time

In a cruel experiment that was popular in criminology at the time, the prisoners were isolated from each other 100% of the time, to the point where they were even unable to catch a glimpse of each other. Their cells were relatively comfortable (given that they were unheated shoeboxes in a cold dark prison in southern Tasmania), but, needless to say, long term isolation did nothing for most of them except cause extreme mental illness. Replacing harsh physical punishment with harsh mental punishment wasn’t actually the best strategy, surprise surprise. They were so dumb in those days.

In those days?

Glimpse-proof chapel. Probs God-proof also.

I delivered my sermon here, on The Importance of Veganism in the Contemporary World. Noone came. No wonder I eat cheese sometimes otherwise I wouldn’t belong anywhere and would have no friends whatsoever.

Great Southwest Walk

This 250km loop walk, in Gunditjmara country, begins and ends at Portland, on Victoria’s southwest coast. The track roughly follows the Glenelg River, as it winds its way to Nelson on the coast, and then the path hugs the coast all the way back to Portland. I walked the coastal part on my own, about 125km. It was absolutely amazing, and extra special to do it on my own.

I met only 2 other hikers on the track, Brendan and Joanne, we sometimes spent the evenings at camp together, I tried to get them to understand my humour, but they just looked at me strangely when I tried to be funny so I just stayed serious, or shut up altogether. Well, not really. It’s impossible for me to shut up for very long. You may have noticed.

The first day involved hiking around 25km on a soft beach, with a fully laden pack, carrying food for 8 days. I missed the tide, that was not the best of moves, so the sand was super super soft. My left knee complained every day for the rest of the hike, and for a few days after that.

The track traversed many different terrains, including soft dunes, cliffs, thick forest, plains and wetlands.

My lunchtime swimming spot.

Snakes ahoy. Not as many as the Bibb though

Ho hum. Another magnificent sunset.

This girl enjoyed it too.

Tarragal Cave

Wild wild afternoon. Rough seas, thick fog, wind. Magnificent.

Those pools down there contain fresh water from springs. The early farmers actually used to get their stock down there to drink, in dry conditions. They were so hardcore in those days.

Misnamed Petrified Forest. It’s not actually a petrified forest, although it looks like one. A chemical geological process causes the formations, not organic matter turning to stone. I had to tell them so they could fix up their signs. Well … maybe their signs told me that. I can’t remember now, my memory’s shot these days.

Shippingcontainerwrecks

Brendan and Joanne before they gave me another little shot bottle of Tequila. I couldn’t resist telling them my dad joke about tequila. Joanne looks like she knows something bad’s coming.

Why did the Mexican man push his wife off a cliff?

Tequila.

They laughed their heads off. Or did they cringe? I can’t remember now, my memory’s shot these days.

Have I said that before?

I can’t remember now, my memory’s shot these days.

Cape Bridgewater blurry seal colony.

Gariwerd National Park (The Grampians)

This magnificent park lies about halfway between Melbourne and Adelaide. I stopped there for some hiking on the way through, just a day walk on part of the Grampians Peak Trail. It’s hiking at its best, with all the glam, and a hefty price tag for walkers. It costs over $500 to do the 13 day hike.

By comparison, the 1000km Bibbulmun Track was completely free. You can make a donation to their foundation. That’s the way it’s going these days. People want more luxury at the campsites, and it squeezes out others who don’t have the cash for it.

I climbed Gar (Mt Difficult). It wasn’t too difficult, but the weather was cold and it was super windy. I was worried about getting blown off the top.

Glassed-in glamping shelter

Before

After

The triumvirate complete

WOMAD and the Adelaide Fringe Festival

I know I grew up in Adelaide and all, but I gotta say that WOMAD is my favourite music festival in Australia. The setting, in Adelaide Botanic Park, is stunning, there’s loads of massive trees, lots of shade, a huge varied space. But it’s the music that does it for me the most.

WOMAD (World of Music and Dance), or actually WOMADelaide, is a world music festival of the highest order, with incredible musicians from across the globe, a huge number of stages, an incredible variety of genres, as well as amazing dance performances and exhibitions, talks and workshops.

This year my main festival buddy was Mikki, whom I’d met on the Great Ocean Walk with Miranda. She was perfect for the fest, she knew all the good bands, we ran from stage to stage checking everyone out, and dancing our arses off. Mish and Ruby and Michael and Christine also came for the ride, it was so great to have a cool bunch of people to be with, it’s a beautiful setting for it, with loads of spots to hang and eat, drink and be gay.

Mish and Ruby in the Cathedral of Lights

The unbearable lightness of being

LAB, Kiwi soul groovers

Mikki dancing the photo into a blur

Baker Boy

Thelma Plum and A.B. Original

Barkaa, with attitude

Of course the Adelaide Fringe Festival and the Adelaide Festival are on at the same time as WOMAD, there’s loads and loads to do in Adelaide at that time of year. Shame about the rest of the year.

I flew Manu and Lali down so we could hang with our family, we got an apartment in the city and lived it up, op shopping, the Central Markets, hangin out at The Garden of Earthly Delights (the Fringe hub), and going to Fringe or Festival performances.

Later on Miranda turned up in Adelaide, we hung out with Mikki and Zoe, a yoga buddy, it was super fun.

After a fringe show.

Yeah, after Ready Set Go! you're supposed to jump.

A Yayoi Kusama pumpkin.

Bugger. I thought he died for me too.

This is actually my childhood home, in the semi industrial migrant enclave of Largs Bay. Eleven of us lived in this little shack, believe it or not. It’s pretty run down these days I gotta say.

At first I thought this was Benny Hill dressed as a Turkish grandmother sweetie cook. Then I realised he would be smirking, so it couldn’t be him.

Manu Lali and Ruby pretending they’re happy, even though they’d been stuck at a boring family lunch for hours.

The man

Present and future Masked Matriarchs. We went to see the Bangarra Dance Theatre’s performance of Wudjang: Not The Past, at the Festival Theatre, compliments of my extremely generous brother Andrew. It was devastatingly sad. We all cried. Please see it if you can, it’s one of the most moving dance theatre pieces I’ve ever seen.

Carrick Hill Mansion in the Adelaide Hills

I trod on this guy’s hands, he looked really dodgy.

My Goddaughter Nadia, on our way to the pub

Mish pretending my pack’s easy to carry

Gothic glory

Hindley Street is so trashy on weekend nights. We couldn’t find anywhere to dance, the clubs were pumping out the worst music ever, people kept bumping into us and tripping up over their own legless feet.

But finally we found “Ancient World,” it had a few weirdos in it, like us, but we could dance. Mikki is in the shadows.

My kind of fruit’n’veg store

To the Red Centre

So Miranda and I left Adelaide, on our way to Alice Springs, to go on yet another long distance hike. Miranda wasn’t actually that well, but she soldiered on, stiff upper lip and all that, we didn’t know it at the time but she actually had Covid, poor thing.

So we headed north, stopping in the southern Flinders Ranges, and then straight into the humongous amazing desert.

Hut in Mt Remarkable National Park

The countryside was amazing! Incredible colours, flat earth, long long open stretches of desert, saltbush, grasses, red soil. We stayed in Coober Pedy, had a meal in a pub, the young guy serving us was the weirdest human in history, we had a great laugh to ourselves, then camped underground in an old opal mine that had been converted into a weird-arse underground hotel and campsite. We were the only ones there.

A-maze-ing

An Italian couple who were camping outside heard me playing guitar and singing, and came in to chat in broken English. They were fun, they listened for ages before saying anything.

The sunrise outside the mine was unbelievable.

So, a short shower is now 5 minutes? Mama mia, you can flush a lot of precious water down the drain in 5 minutes.

I thought this diesel price was really noteworthy at the time. That was then. It’s almost this price in the cities these days.

Before hitting Alice, we did some food drops for the hike, and slept by this amazing waterhole, Ellery Bighole North. Later, on the hike, we camped on the other side of the water. It’s stunningly beautiful.

We met these guys in the Araluen Arts Centre in Alice. Stunning indigenous art works in there.

A Namatjira watercolour of Rwetyepme (Mt Sonder), which we climbed on the last day of the trail.

The best view, from the worst campsite in the world, Kings Canyon Resort. Never camp there, unless you enjoy sleeping on sharp gravel, looking at toilets.

But Watarrka, Kings Canyon itself, is the most magnificent place, incredible rock formations, cliffs, and a stunningly beautiful waterhole. We walked the Rim Track, it was unbelievable, it was like being on another planet.

Reminiscent of Purnululu (the Bungle Bungles)

Then we headed to Uluṟu, but this ain’t it. I bet it fools a lot of tourists. This amazing monolith is called Artilla, the early white settlers named it Mt Connor.

This is it

It’s hard to describe the feeling that overcomes you when you see Uluṟu. The energy of that incredible rock completely overcomes me, a huge shimmering red mountain rearing out of the vast flat red desert. It’s really powerful, you gotta feel that one day.

And it’s not that I was seeing Uluṟu for the first time either. It’s still just as magnificent as it always was. Always will be.

I used to play music regularly in Yulara, the tourist township about 25km away. I’d work out there for 6, 8 or 10 weeks at a time, playing 6 or 7 nights a week, entertaining tourists from all over the place, as well as young staff who knew how to down a drink or two. It was super fun, I made a lot of friends in that place, and spent loads of time in the desert, and at the rock or at Kata Tjuṯa.

Partying hard in my hotel room - music, beer and cigarettes. Steph and Tjimpurna are in another realm.

Loads of friends and family visited while I worked there, including these two amazing women, Alex and Johanna.

I spent a lot of time in hotel rooms in Yulara. I was thinking of sending this shot to the Guinness Book of World Records to apply to break the record for the longest hand in the world. But I never got around to it.

So anyway, the funny thing is, one night Miranda and I went out to the place I used to play in Yulara, and, lo and behold, I met a friend from Mullum who now works there. She was very very drunk. Very very very.

It reminded me of the young overcooked staff who worked there back in the day, it was pretty messy sometimes, and, I must admit, very occasionally I was pretty messed up myself. I remember one night forcing my mouth closed, and then actually swallowing my own cocktail vomit while I was on stage trying to sing a song. Very rock n roll.

Those were the days.

Of course Miranda and I walked around Uluṟu late in the afternoon. It was magnificent, it’s one of the most powerful places on my earth.

The next day we got up early to walk the Valley of the Winds loop at Kata Tjuṯa (the Olgas). I saw God there.

Miranda found us a cute caravan park to camp in, on our last night before starting the hike. It was beautiful.

The Larapinta Trail

So finally we made it to the Larapinta Trail, a 250km hiking trail that heads west from Alice Springs, through Tjuritja, the Western MacDonnell Ranges. We hit the track in its prime. There’d been a huge flood event a couple of months before we got there, so all the waterholes had water, the vegetation and flowers were booming, thousands and thousands of birds followed us everywhere, it really was the most magnificent place to be, and we were there at the perfect time.

So Miranda and I headed off on our own for the first week, walking from Alice Springs, via Rungutjirpa (Simpson’s Gap), eventually getting to Angkerle Atwatye (Standley Chasm). Btw the ch in chasm is pronounced as a k, as in for Chrissakes! not like a ch as in fish and chippies. Bloody Poms Miranda and Iain, can’t speak English properly.

It was April, and super hot for the first couple of weeks. We had to sit out the heat of the day, and try to find cooler spots in the shade. It was blistering.

A young hiker walking with a bunch of friends from Canberra, a day behind us, actually died of heat exhaustion/heart problems. It was really traumatic. Another bunch of guys from Melbourne tried to resuscitate him, to no avail. They arrived at our campsite really really upset.

The next day one of their own party suffered the same issues. They’d left the campsite without enough water, expecting to find it on the way, even though the maps didn’t guarantee water there. We donated some of ours to them. I had to walk ahead to the night’s campsite and return with more water for them.

The water issue was the most important thing on this hike. As well as not being in a rush, walking in the cool of the day, resting when it was too hot. So many hiking parties we met didn’t give themselves enough time, or were out trying to break records. Many were having a really tough time. There were four individual helicopter rescues on the track while we were there.

Rungutjirpa

Do I look relaxed?

This water was absolutely freezing

Flood damage in Jay Creek

The magnificent, sacred, Birthday Waterhole. I couldn’t find the indigenous name, but it was a birthing place, and we couldn’t swim there. We swam upstream a bit. We spent a lot of time at this place, camping two nights upstream a bit, it really was amazing.

Then finally we climbed up, and over, Angkerle Atwatye (Standley Chasm), and met up with Iain and Michael, who’d flown into Alice, and driven my car in. They brought fresh fruit, fresh veggies, and, of course, fresh cold beer. Yum.

The next morning, some of us feeling slightly worse for wear, we headed up on a steep rocky track to Brinkley Bluff. It was hot. As there was no water up there, we had to carry supplies for the day’s walk, as well as enough for the night and morning, and for the next day’s hiking too. That’s a lot. Our packs also happened to be full, with a whole week’s worth of food, it was pretty strenuous.

In fact, Michael was also unwell, and had to leave his pack about halfway up. Iain and I went back for it, and had a very private conversation that I promised I wouldn’t reveal to anyone. But I can’t resist telling you guys.

Nah, only joking Iain, you can wipe the sweat off your brow.

Super steep ridge tops

Then we finally made it to Brinkley Bluff, and, at sunset and sunrise, it was one of the most beautiful places in the world.

The next day we headed down the steep escarpment, and camped in another amazing gorge. There was definitely partying that night.

Michael having a dip

This is what the shelters look like. Pretty luxie. We hardly stayed in them though, preferring the gorges or the bush.

Calling in the spirits. I had a little boombox, which my hiking buddies had generously donated to me for all my hiking organisational prowess, which I successfully pretended to have.

The next day our party split, Michael headed one way to Hugh Gorge, Miranda Iain and I another. Unfortunately early in the morning I had a fall, and smashed my knee on a rock. It got progressively worse during the day, it was excruciating, it must have been my excruciate ligament, and by nightfall I thought my hike was over. I was pretty sad.

But miraculously, despite the fact that I still needed to hike every day, it slowly healed over the rest of the hike. Go figure.

It’s so hard being a hero.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. To make way for new good things. Michael left us, on his own epic hike and to hitch out of the park. And then we were three.

It was so amazing hiking with Michael, his total appreciation of the beauty of the bush is so special to be around, let alone his amazing warm connection with all of us.

The most comfortable chair in the world

Finally, we glimpsed our endpoint, Rwetyepme (Mt Sonder), which we climbed on our last day, the highest point of the hike. Not that it’s that high, 1380m, but it’s the fourth highest hill in the NT. Yeah, the Territory’s pretty flat, although, surprisingly, there’s loads of different ranges all the way through it. Ones you’ve never heard of.

We camped in Yarretyeke (Redbank Gorge), for a couple of nights. It was one of the most beautiful of all the many gorges we had the pleasure to visit and swim in during our whole 3 weeks of walking.

It’s full immersion on a long hike like that, it’s the best ever.

And it was so amazing to hike with Miranda, Iain and Michael. They were all so cruisey, loads of fun, able to withstand the persistent banter that, coincidentally, seems to follow me during every hike. Or they created it, of course. Iain was full of heroics too, climbing steep cliffs to help us ferry our packs across, carrying extra water, and just generally doing the work of 10,000 men, which appears to be his life purpose. The only downside is that Miranda and Iain are English, but you can’t have everything. Also Iain’s flatulence was intense on occasion, resulting in his oft-used nickname of Muchas Gassy Arse.

Pre European days, the local Arrernte people mined ochre for trading. It was a prized commodity. This is one of their ochre pits, it had ochres of so many incredible colours.

And so that was it. We made it back to Alice, back to civilisation. It’s weird going back after being in the bush, out of range, for so long. Yeah there’s the creature comforts (mainly fresh food), but otherwise I guess there’s a sense of loss. For awhile. It’s hugely precious to have experienced that journey with Miranda Iain and Michael. Those sort of experiences happen all too rarely in life.

I’m trying to clock them up while I can.

The relationship between the police and indigenous people in Alice is totally strained. The NT government response to the problem is just to hire more police, and get more heavy handed. It’s really dumb.

We had Indian food for our farewell dinner, at the Ten Pin Bowling club. It was amazingly good. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t surprised by that, given that it’s Alice Springs.

Back to Mullum

And so that was that. All I needed to do now was to drive all the way back to the north coast of NSW, a cool 3500km away. Or should I say hot.

Karlu Karlu (Devil's Marbles)

The huge flat expanse of the Barkly Tableland

It was wet. I drove into major flooding, and had to head much further north than normal, almost up to Townsville. A climate change induced super La Niña was devastating the east coast, which meant I had to use more fossil fuel to get home, further exacerbating the problem. Life’s so bloody complicated sometimes.

But I made it.

I got back to Mullum.

It's Nearly Done

So now you know the almost complete story of my recent Oz adventures.

Finally.

I haven’t told you about my last couple of months on the north coast yet though. It's been so amazingly beautiful, I'm nearly bursting. It hasn't been physical travel this time, but the most precious emotional love journey. I couldn't have wished for a more beautiful finale. And I also feel so grateful to have had the chance to party with and say goodbye to many very special people.

I promise I’ll tell you all about that action next time.

Lately I’ve explored a zillion places on this continent, I feel like I now know it so much better than I have for a long time, since my early days of travelling.

I feel like Oz is now really inside me.

It's happened by Ozmosis.

And now that so much of Oz is really in me, I feel like I’m ready to leave, to check out other amazing parts of the planet.

So next time I write I’ll be on me bike. It's time to explore Southeast Asia.

In fact, to be truthful, I’m there right now. In Bali.

It’s bloody bagus.

It’s hot and stinky humid, but I haven't been rained on yet.

Coming here actually feels a bit like coming home.

And I can’t wait to tell you all about it.❤️