In the Devil's back yard

HOBART, Tasmania _ We knew two things about the Australian island of Tasmania before landing here. It is the finish line for the Sydney-Hobart sailing race. And it is the home of the devil.

A third thing struck us our first evening there, eating seafood at the Mure Upper Deck restaurant in the rain: Have we travelled to the far side of the world from Norway to get to Skagen, Denmark? The feeling was uncannily like a Danish port village.

We'd been in doubt about Tasmania, because the weather forecast, rainy and cool, sounded a bit too much like summer in Scandinavia. But we went for it.

And Hobart felt good. It fit, like a favorite old shoe.

Speaking of old shoes. Doug's beloved old sandals were laid to eternal rest in Hobart due to terminal odor. Eva had refused to allow them indoors anymore unless they were sealed in plastic. Doug tried various ploys, including washing them and hiding them, but knew the jig was up when Eva found a new pair of sandals on sale. So, farewell old friends. You survived being stolen by jackals in Namibia, but could not get past The Nose.

D&E needed a day off from sightseeing, so we just hung around the quaint streets of Hobart. The next day, we went kayaking around the harbor, even eating fish and chips while afloat, something that appears to be something of a local tradition. (They have floating take-out restaurants).

We got back into tourist mode with a full day tour of Port Arthur. Well worth it. In the morning, we cruised the waters of Tasmania, checking out wildlife, including seals, penguins, dolphins, as well as staggering scenery, and stunning cliffs that seemed to burst from the sea. We even went into water filled caves. The afternoon was spent at Port Arther, a prison compound for the hardest English and Irish convicts from about 1830 until 1877. The whole compound, with houses,prisons, churches and all was fascinating, but the greatest impression were the tiny cells, measuring 1.3 meters by 2.10 meters (4X7 feet), and the tiny stalls in the church where convicts were forced to stand for sermons, with the preacher able to see them while the convicts could not see each other.

We picked up our rental car and Doug was delighted that Avis upgraded them to a high-performance, high-powered Ford Falcon XR6. The car led to whoops – of joy or terror, depending which seat you were in. But enough on that. We're back on speaking terms.

Eva continued finding the coolest places to stay as we headed up the east coast. In Richmond, she found a vineyard that rented out suites. It was memorable (the plush red curtains, green ceiling, four-poster bed and own garden). We enjoyed this old and vaguely royal suite so much that we decreed that dinner would be taken in our chambers.

A bit father up the coast, we rented a cabin near Swansea. It also had its own yard, so we put bought shellfish for dinner and gorged ourselves out in the garden.

And then there was Wineglass Bay, in Freycinet National Park. That steep and tough 2.5 hour walks, with maybe 700 steps up and then 700 down, exposed two things: 1) D&E's physical condition is slightly less than optimal, 2) We showed a lack of and judgement not only by forgetting to bring wine and glasses to Wineglass Bay, but also by running short of water. Half of the D&E team did enter the frigid water for a swim. Guess which one?

We loved Tassie, but were quite stunned by the amount of road kill of wildlife. We may have seen a Tasmania Devil but – if so – it was only as a black patch of fur on the road.

Thank you Tasmania!

Bruce and Sheila

''G'day, g'day, g'day''

MELBOURNE, Australia – The expressions ''G'day, g'day, g'day'' and ''Beer O'Clock'' come from this Australian metropolis, at least for D&E. But ''hang on a tick,'' more on that later.

The Travellers arrived here after midnight, and went straight to their apartment-hotel in the center of town. Didn't see much at night, but it would be love at first sight in the morning. Melbourne seems to have gotten this whole city 'thing' right, a great mix of urbane and laid back even though it was gearing up for the Australia open tennis.

Eva was especially pleased by all the street artwork downtown, while Doug found it highly pleasant just to walk around, take a ferry ride , ride the tram (trolley) and have a beer in an outdoor cafe.

Melbourne is also, probably, the only place in Australia where D&E had acquaintances ahead of arrival. There was Simon, a colleague of Doug's from the 2008 Olympics in China who officially declared the time of ''Beer O'clock each afternoon'', and Morrie (Morris) from the Africa trek, who got D&E started saying ''G'day, g'day, g'day'' rather than ''Cheese'' each time they posed for a picture.

Simon is a British journalist who was travelling around the world a decade ago and never made it past Australia. That sort of serendipity in planning appeals to Doug, and they hit if off in China, and caught up over lunch in Melbourne.

The next day, Morrie, ''a young 65,'' came into town to pick us up. Morrie took early retirement as a math teacher, and has been spending the past decade or so in a determined and impressive quest to see the world's key sights, such as Antarctica and southern Africa. We're not sure if he was pleased or discouraged when we mentioned that the polar bears of Norway's Svalbard Islands were missing from his list, so we expect to see him along our fjords shortly after he does Burma.

Anyway, Morrie took us to his home to dump our backpacks, and the drove us up into the forests for a fantastic hike, which included close encounters with cockatoo birds. He also made us his speciality Morrie's Baked Salmon for dinner, took us for another walk, and made us feel right at home. The next morning, he drove us up to the Healesville Sanctuary, where we got the see the whole assortment of Australian wildlife, including koalas, Tasmanian Devils and wombats.

There would be peace on earth if every country had its fair share of wombats.

After our one of our best days in Australia _ when we saw more in 24 hours than in a week on our own _ he took us to the airport for our next leg, Hobart, Tasmania. Thanks Morrie!

Thanks Melbourne!

Bruce and Sheila

On the road again

PERTH, Western Australia_ G'day. We've figured out why everyone around here seems so friendly. Flies.

All that waving isn't a friendly greeting. It's called the 'Australian Salute' -- waving one hand in front of you face to keep the flies away. (We also suspect that the smiles are just teeth barred to keep the flies out of your mouth.)

But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Be teleported, back in time and space to the airport in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Stunned Eva runs into her cousin, Trond and his family, who is on the same flight to Perth. There is an inflight reunion.

Anyway, at the Perth airport, Eva confessed to customs that she was in possession of elephant dung paper. It was confiscated as ''unidentified plant'' matter, not surprising, since elephants do eat a lot of plant matter.

We picked up our 4X4 camper (immediately named Dexter because of his license plate 1DEX 712), near Perth. Dexter is a 2006 Toyota Hi-Lux pickup truck with a camper back. Doug was horrified to see that it had been driven 206,000 kilometers (128,000 miles) in rough terrain by careless renters and hoped the rattling sound from the clutch bearing was normal.

Each day, when getting behind the wheel in this drive-on-the-left-side-of-the-road country, Doug would chant ''Right is the new left.'' A right turn in Australia is like a left turn in the real world.

D&E were pleased and excited about getting settled into Dex (a bit like being on the boat) and to be fending for themselves in the outback for 15 days. That fantasy was short-lived, with outback temperatures hitting 50C (122 F) in Australian summer. Instead, we headed south to the cooler coast. (South was also the new North)

And, by the way, the clutch smelled burned.

Another thing we hadn't counted we were setting off at the peak of the summer vacation season, and peak of peak, on the New Year's Eve long weekend. Everything was full, and we were just thankful to find a spot at all. We fell asleep before midnight and only stirred slightly to cheers of our friendly neighbors. Oh well.

The whole thing of crowded campgrounds, was getting us down, after traveling through the wilds of southern Africa and staying on secluded beaches in Thailand. And, by the way, the clutch smelled burned.

However, it was interesting to note the Australian style of camping, which was to haul an staggering amount of gear (like campers, tents, boats and offroad motorcycles) behind a Toyota Land Cruiser diesel, and then built a sprawling encampment designed to last for weeks.

At Yallingup, a popular beach area, people were amazed that we were 'lucky' enough to get the last camping spot (next to the toilets) when they had booked a year earlier. And when we tried to swim in the huge waves, it was like getting mugged by water and left with nothing but a bathing suit full of sand.

And, by the way, the clutch smelled burned.

Things started to look up at Margaret River, a delightful tourist town, where we got a nice camp spot and went on a wine tasting tour by bus. That evening we used an outdoor cooking appliance to roast some venison with new found friends Thomas and Donna from South Africa.

Finally, finally, finally, at Windy Harbor, D&E were going to drop Dex into low range four-wheel-drive and head along a sandy 4x4 track to a remote campsite.

''This is not really my cup of tea,'' Eva noted, as Dex slid sideways at a 30 degree tilt through the deep sand of the narrow track and Doug kept his foot on the gas because losing momentum would mean sinking into the sand and getting stuck.

And, by the way, the clutch smelled burned.

So we turned back at first opportunity and camped at yet another crowded campground.

Dex held out long enough to get us in some beautiful national forests, and as far a Orleans Bay, near one of Australians 10 best beaches. So much for heading south! It was the hottest place in Australia at 47 degrees (116F), but as we sat in the comfort of Dex's air conditioned cabin, we though with glee ... um ... sympathy about our friends in Oslo suffering minus 27 (-17).

It became clear: Dex was not going to make it back to Perth without a new clutch. We called the rental company, and told them we would try to make it to Esperance, the main town about 80 kilometers (50 miles) away

There are worse places to be stuck than Esperance. Beautiful beaches, and we had one of the best meals of our trek at the Loose Goose restaurant. Since we would be stuck through the weekend, we signed up for a wildlife cruise and night in a tent out on Woody Island. It was great fun, with hiking and snorkeling.

By the time Dex was repaired on Monday afternoon, our time was running out. Finally, we got to spend a night in a national park, but then had to high-tail it back to Perth, stopping only at the amazing Wave Rock. Hate to say it, but we were relieved to return Dex.

Believe it or not, we had fun, probably because we had no plan, no idea where we wanted to go, and no idea whether faithful but decrepit Dex would make it there anyway. So we played it by ear, which _ we seem to recall _ was the whole point of this 95 day exercise in the first place.

So, after a night at a wonderful bed and breakfast in wonderful Fremantle, it was off to Melbourne by air. But that's a different story.

Thanks Western Australia (Thanks to you too Dex)

Bruce and Sheila

D&E's Science Class

SHOCKER! Australians' dirty little secret - BBQ habits - exposed!

ORLEANS BAY, Australia _ Ahead of arriving here, down under, Doug was excited about going to the Mecca of BBQing. You know, ''G'day Mate. Let's throw a couple prawns on the Barbie'' and such.

Brace yourselves. It's A LIE!.

At first, Doug thought it was a fluke, an error, a terrible, horrifying, painful misunderstanding. That thing, that abomination, at the first campground's BBQ area (ha ha) was not really a BBQ. It was a large skillet or frying pan, heated by gas in this case.

There were no coals. At no time was the meat or other food exposed to smoke or the heat of coals, There was no cooking grate, just this large, built in frying pan.

Here, from the Websters New World Collegiate Dictionary: A definition:

''barbecue to prepare (meat) outdoors by roasting on a spit or broiling on a grill, usually over a charcoal fire.''

So we're all clear on that? Charcoal. Gas grills are, if necessary, an acceptable substitute, should conditions demand that.

But in Australia? Oh, no, no no. They use the gas to heat a large outdoor skillet. And one campground they had an ELECTRIC _ perish the thought _ skillet they were trying to pass off as a BBQ.

Doug was trying to be a gracious guest, until he got here to Orleans Bay, where he paid 15 dollars (about 100 kroner) to rent a 'BBQ' – ha!. In this case you fired up the abomination with wood, but those coals just heated a skillet. AT NO TIME was the food in contact with smoke, or coals or flames.

Humanity. Rise up. The international community can no long accept this. Australians must be forced to mend their ways, or at the very least be truthful in describing their disgusting cooking practices.

Unless they repent, they can no longer be allowed to use to term BBQ but must speak the truth by saying, for example, 'G-Day mate. Let's thrown a couple prawns on the outdoor cooking appliance.''

Bruce and Sheila

Lose weight without diet or excercise!

Welcome to Oz, sharks, snakes, spiders and all

PERTH, Australia _ Doug and Eva have always dreamed of going to Australia because ... um ... ah ... it's far away and has kangaroos, wombats, nice beaches and friendly people who say ''G'day'' all the time.

Our first impression: It's a lot like America except people drive on the wrong side of the road and talk funny.

Anyway, reading up on Australia gave D&E a number of reasons NOT to want to go to Australia. These include: Sharks, crocodiles and venomous sea snakes, deadly jellyfish, marine creatures with poisonous spikes, killer sting-rays and the deadly blue-ringed octopus.

Plus large waves, rip tides, and undercurrents and out of control surfers.

So the safe bet is dry land, right? Not a chance.

On land, there is an impressive assortment of venomous snakes, including the Death Adder, and deadly spiders like the red back or the funnelweb.

Everyone tells you ''No worries'' about getting bitten because you will probably survive if you make it to a hospital within two hours. Great! The only thing less than two hours from a hospital in Australia is the hospital itself.

You can also die from the heat and thirst. Like being stuck at 50C (120F) in a part of the outback so remote that the most recent vehicle to pass was a road train last month.

Road trains? Talk about danger. When you see one of these these rigs roaring along with its string of trailers at near at a gazillion miles (1.6 gazillion kilometers) an hour, just ''Get off the road and wait, mate.''

There also seem to be a lot of road signs warning about the dangers of drinking and driving or driving when tired, suggesting that a lot of Australians need to be warned.

And wildfires spread instantly. And dingos.

On the other hand, there are signs of an advanced civilization here. For example, Australians have English Muffins, eggs Benedict, stakes of pancakes, with syrup, eggs and bacon, good beer, fine wine, all cheap and in huge portions. And there is cheap fuel, cheap cars, and great roads, which means you never have to walk anywhere.

We can see it now. Mr and Mrs M are fleeing a wildfire in their rented truck. A tired, drunk Australian sideswipes their car. The two Ms climb out of the wreck but have grown so fat from all the Aussie 'Tucker'' that all they can manage is a hurried waddle toward the coast, where all the venomous snakes and spiders have already gathered to get away from the flames.

So what then? Stay on the beach to be burned or bitten to death? Race into the ocean so the rip tides can make you shark food?

As we say in Norway ''Det kan gå bra'' --- ''it could go well'.

We'll see. Hello Oz.

Bruce and Sheila