October 2023

 

Another couple of lengthy flights, via Abu Dhabi, and we stepped into the stunningly clean and beautiful Changi airport in Singapore.  Probably should avoid the comparison with Manchester!  From there, a short ride down lush and leafy roads, beautifully manicured, to our hotel in Chinatown.  The hotel in the photo was the view from our window.  Singapore was the perfect place to holiday.  In the same time zone as Perth, it also allowed us to de-jet lag.  The Singaporean people are a blend of different Asian cultures, happy, polite and friendly.  Tempting as it was to go everywhere and do everything, we did manage to leave some sights for a return visit one day.

We were walking distance from Clarke Quay and took a boat ride with commentary, which helped us get a sense of the geography of the centre and pick out places we'd like to visit.  Gardens by the Bay was a relatively short ride on the MRT.  It took us a while to work out how to use this transport as we were thwarted by the limited availability of travel cards and cash-only outlets.  Worked it out eventually and what a joy it was.  Immaculately clean, fast and efficient.  There are several attractions at Gardens by the Bay, and we settled on the the SuperTree Grove, Flower Dome and the extensive public gardens.  There were great views of the Marina Bay Hotel, aka the Ironing Board and the Singapore Flyer.

The Botanical Gardens are probably the best Botanical Gardens I've ever seen.  The planting is just superb on every level, with lots of different sections representing a wide range of habitats.  We paid a small entry fee to see the Orchid Garden, which was totally off-the-scale gorgeous.

We took a walk around Fort Canning Park, on a hill right in the middle of town where Raffles' original home was built, and is now a landscaped zone with more exotic planting, old buildings, Art & Craft Gallery and museum, even a massive WW2 underground bunker from the Japanese invasion of Singapore. 

 

The final trip was to the newly opened Paradise Bird Park, an incredible assortment of birds - Africa, Asia, Australia and Amazon zones, penguins, flamingoes, hornbills, too many to remember.  Each exhibit huge, with sky high nets to contain them, and far too many to see in one visit.  

So much about Singapore to love, looking forward to seeing you again SIngapore.

Yet another 5 hour flight and we finally reached Australian soil.  Our fabulous accommodation was at Mel's place (former Ara colleague and recently moved to Perth to work on the midwifery programme in Edith Cowan University).  We only managed a short stint with Mel because it happened to coincide with an important event on her calendar - a show in the Sydney Opera House.  So lovely to catch up with her and I'll be back to Perth occasionally with work.  We stayed a few days, getting to know Joondalup and making a little progress in understanding the Australian way of being.  We flew up to Port Hedland on Sunday 8th October, just in time for me to start work the next day.

                        

Our apartment, courtesy of my new employers Western Australia Country Health Service (WACHS), is no disappointment.  That's our place on the 2nd floor.  The sunset view out towards the Indian Ocean was taken when we arrived, and then again the next morning.  We live in a suburb of Port Hedland called Pretty Pool, named for the pretty pool and creek.  Peter finds little creeks and waterways to fish in, not with a great deal of edible success so far but it's still early days.  He did spot a sea snake and luckily stopped himself from scooping it into his net. He later identified it a 'highly venomous' sea snake.  He's also been enjoying the abundant bird-life, including ospreys, parrots, budgies, bee-eaters, zebra finches, galahs, ibises and shrikes.

We don't have a car yet (getting one this weekend) so haven't been able to get out and about too far.  But what we’ve seen of the region has been intriguing. It’s pretty industrial on a huge scale – Port Hedland is the largest bulk port in the world. Lots of iron ore mining, and other kinds of mining and salt production. Everything is huge – the trains are 2.8kms long (takes about 15 minutes for one to go past you) and there are ‘road trains’ – enormous trucks with up to 4 trailers. Over-taking these is not for the faint-hearted, though the roads are excellent and often very straight. Despite it being a port town, the port area is quite tidy. There is poverty in the town, and I’ve been told you should be careful where you go at night, but I’ve never felt unsafe. It’s a town with a young, family vibe (not many old gits like me around) and with a big aboriginal community. The people we've met are welcoming and pleasant. 

       

The nature is special, and we’re really looking forward to seeing more of that. Flatback and green sea turtles nest on many of the beaches round here, and egg-laying season is just starting. There are reefs all around the beaches, not really like the Barrier Reef but brimming with life nonetheless. We've been on a couple of a guided reef walks with the local scientist (German Doris Teufel) who does several tours each month at low tides, and we’ll definitely go again.  Doris' particular expertise is for nudibranchs - soft-bellied molluscs, and we spotted a few of those.  Also sea cucumbers, octopi, sea stars, crabs, anemones, soft and hard corals, sponges, fan worms, bristle stars, several fish, eels, stingray and plant life in the form of seaweed and sea grasses.  There are ongoing environmental issues with reef damage from the bulk industry, and Doris has been monitoring this for years.

It is hot (around 40 degrees most days) but so far it’s a dry heat and quite manageable, especially with fans and aircon.  Peter runs a cold bath every day, and every time he overheats, in he pops and that does the trick.  Works for me too.  The cyclone season is imminent though, so the humidity is likely to increase. There are biting insects, but honestly the Onamalutu sand-flies are way more annoying. So far no huge spiders, snakes, crocs or sharks, not even any kangaroos except on the supermarket meat counter.

Shopping is limited as it's a relatively small and isolated town.  You can pretty much get what you need though, and a lack of shops is no loss to me and there's always internet shopping.  Food is mostly more expensive than in New Zealand, and that came as quite a surprise.  Eating out is particularly costly, even from the many mobile food trucks that come and go.  The fish in the picture is snapper and the meal from the 'Tikkaway' truck was well worth its relatively expensive price (fish and chips $25). 

Work-wise there are many challenges, but the job is shaping up to be varied and with potential to positively contribute to the maternity services.  I'll be working with midwives in the 2 maternity facilities (Hedland and Karratha) and with nursing staff in the many smaller rural centres where birth isn't planned but occasionally happens.  That means I'll get to travel lots, and WACHS encourage me to bring Peter because it's safer to have company when driving those long distances.  So far so good - we're starting to feel both settled and excited about what's ahead.  Apparently winter time is the bees knees here climate-wise.  I'll be saving up my leave so we can get out on the road and experience the awesome Pilbara in its entirety.

And unbelievably, I've managed to hammer out this blog before the end of the month.  Ta-da Karyn - even without your blog-nag 😁

September 2023: the UK

                                         

                                        

We caught the overcrowded bus from Whitby to Scarborough (after a last minute realisation that Uber doesn't operate in Whitby), and then a taxi from Scarborough station to the rental car place.  Our drive to Ripon took us via the infamous York ring road, where as usual the traffic was backed up.  The next day was full of partying at the Storehouse, next to the King Billy pub - Peter's family in the afternoon and friends in the evening.  It was the first time in years that all 6 siblings were in the same place at the same time.  Heaps of other relatives swelled the numbers - a great opportunity for a big family get-together.

      

The next few days were spent catching up.  Peter came to Stamford Bridge with me to see Hag and Paul and Dennis, and he returned to Ripon while I stayed longer.  Far too much Yorkshire food and booze was consumed and thoroughly enjoyed over this time.  My friend Jane drove down from Edinburgh and we had morning tea at Betty's (as we did 4 years ago) and caught up with her daughter Jessica via FaceTime in York Castle gardens (ditto).  When Peter picked me up we managed to squeeze in morning tea with friend and previous neighbour in Stockton-on-the-Forest Hilary, mum of Sam's old school friend Callum.  Another Stockton friend, Jane, was unable to meet as she had Covid.    

The rental vehicle was returned to its Scarborough home, and we caught the National Express coach to Birmingham via Leeds.  There are other ways to spend 7 hours on your 30th wedding anniversary, but at least we've knocked this one off the bucket list!  We stayed with mum in Birmingham, catching up with Kaja and Marcus and families whilst we were there.  As requested, half of Nick's ashes were buried in Leasowes Park during a small ceremony where Nikki read a beautiful poem that was written by one of Nick's relatives (Anne Le Marquand Hartigan: To Keep the Light Burning: Reflections in Times of Loss).  The park wardens had also bought a tree, a disease-resistent elm that hosts the protected species White-Letter hairstreak butterfly.  They planted it in the park, just yards from Mum and Nick's home, once the ashes were buried. The remainder of Nick's ashes will travel with us to New Zealand, where they will be scattered into the sea off the Kaikoura coast.   

                                  

            

We picked up another car rental in Birmingham, and travelled down to Somerset with Marcus and Nikki.  En route we called by my cousin Nicola and husband Garry in Midsomer Norton.  Their son Joe is currently in Australia, so we'll see if we can catch up with him one day.  We all stayed with Auntie Sally, who'd invited some of the family round for a barbecue. There we caught up with cousins Sam and Ben (and Ben's family Ada, Bel and Scarlett), Uncle Peter and cousin Emma (and her kids Fay and Thomas).  It's been donkeys years since I've properly caught up with this branch of my family, and very lovely it was too.  The next day we travelled to Bath with Sally to see Uncle Pat and Auntie Pearl in Radstock, and drop Marcus and Nikki off at Bath station.  We drove through Martock on our way back to Sally's, passing Butter Pool where my god-mother Jane grew up, and the house where my dad was born and lived (in the photo).  

 

  

                                              

From Somerset we headed to London, passing alongside Stonehenge and stopping for lunch and catch up at my god-mother Jayne's in Basingstoke.  I'd last seen Jayne 4 years ago when I was in England.  She's still busy with teaching art and her own beautiful pastel artwork.  We dropped off the car at Heathrow (phew - I'm not used to London driving these days) and took the new Elizabeth line to Tooting where Patsy met us at the station.  Some of Pats' family were around too - David, Jenny, Amy and Hannah.  We took a walk to Battersea Power Station, now a shopping centre, through Battersea Park on a gorgeous late-summer London day.  Patsy later dropped us off at Rachel's place (and Geoff and Sam) in South Bank.  Rachel's still recovering from a recent hip replacement but managed to hobble around.  We played Cards Against Humanity one evening, and it turns out that I have somewhat of a talent for it.  Probably just my beginner's luck, or possibly the happy outcome of the intense whisky drinking by the other players, but I'm thinking we'll be putting this game on the Quiz Night agenda when we get back to NZ.

Goodbye England, great to have seen you and yours again!  And hello Singapore - looking forward to exploring.  

 

September 2023 The Walk

                 

                                

Manchester greeted us with its usual grey skies and rain.  At the time, we never suspected that England was about to enter a heatwave and we'd be #sunburntinYorkshire.  Ann picked us up from the airport, driving to Oughtibridge through some familiar and lovely northern scenery.  She hosted us beautifully for a few days while we de-jetlagged, feeding us with some particularly special delicacies like pork pies, cheese and onion pasties, Yorkshire curd tarts, Red Leicester cheese, and prawn cocktail crisps, washed down with John Smiths ale.   

From South Yorkshire we headed north to Peter's sister Julie in Ripon.  We reminisced through the streets of Ripon city - my childhood home and where Peter lived out his late teens and twenties.  Many places unchanged like the cathedral, but also heaps of new structures and roads that were disorientating.  Julie dropped us off in Kirkby Stephen - the start of what was to be our Not-Quite-Coast-To-Coast walk.  We'd completed the full version of this Wainwright walk over 30 years ago, and remembered only too well the hiking agony of the first few days in the Lake District.  Starting at the western edge of the Yorkshire Dales close to the Cumbrian border meant an overall reduction in miles as well as elevation.  So yes, the Coast To Coast for wimps.  Last time we carried full packs and camped.  This time every night a B & B, so considerably smaller packs.  Even wimpier.  At least we didn't take the final step of having our bags transported by 'pack horse', though there were times when we wished we had.

               

Day 1 was supposed to be a 12 mile trek from Kirkby Stephen to Keld via Nine Standards Rigg.  The first stretch to the Rigg was a short sharp ascent of 450m, across pennine-style bogs to the top.  We had planned to take a longer though lower level route, but signs indicated that it was important for the environment that certain tracks were taken at specific times of year.  So up we tramped to the top, where we were rewarded with great views in every direction.  There were other walkers up there, and we made our first rookie mistake of following the route that a group had taken down the other side of the fell.  The joy of downhill walking and speedy progress came to an abrupt end when we realised we didn't recognise where we were on the map.  A helpful gamekeeper from a grouse-shooting party kindly directed us back up to the Rigg and down in a different direction.  It was gutting to lose so much height and time, and no-one to blame but ourselves.  Back at the top we met another couple from Keld who were taking a day-hike, and they were happy for us to follow them down.  This had the advantage of avoiding the huge waist deep bogs that we'd heard about, but the disadvantage of taking us an even longer route.  We parted company at a road, and had just worked out that Keld was another 4.5 mile walk when a car pulled up.  It was the same couple and they offered us a lift into Keld.  What - cheating?? On day 1???  Of course we gratefully accepted and later found our way to the Keld Bunkbarn, our accommodation for the night.  Keld is famous for its many waterfalls, and the Bunkbarn even had its own private waterfall.  

              

Day 2 took us from Keld to Reeth, another 12 mile trek along the River Swale.  There was another high route alternative passing relics of lead mines.  Wainwright says that though  'there is a fascination for those with imagination who can picture in their minds the scene as it was a century before (...) there is no beauty in these sorry remains'.  Low cloud pretty much sealed the deal and we opted for the lower route.  Peter's mate Steve Green lives in Barrow-in-Furness and he joined us for the first few miles of the route with his dog Poppy.  The route went alongside the beautiful Swale for much of the walk.  There was even a lovely stretch of path along the top of a wall.  It was our only wet day, more of a drizzle at that really.  We had a brief lunch in a Gunnerside pub where we met a couple, Jackie and Eamonn, who amazingly had also done the Coast to Coast 30 years earlier.   Numerous stiles and gates wreaked havoc with our untrained knees and hips, and we were very weary when we finally arrived at the Ivy B & B in Reeth, praying silently for a magical boost our fitness.  

  

Day 3 took us to Richmond, a slightly shorter and relatively easier 10.5 miles.  Marrick Priory was our first break stop.  We had camped there during the last walk, and recall nearly losing our tent's flysheet to some persistent cattle who were having a ball licking off the dew.  We also remembered the small village of Marske, who's namesake also exists as a small town on the north east coast where Peter went to school.  The day's walk took in gorgeously classic Yorkshire Dales scenery before emerging into the lovely town of Richmond, in enough time and with enough energy to explore a little. 

                                     

Danby Wiske was the destination for day 4, some 14 miles walk from Richmond.  Coast to Coast signposting is hit and miss, and though there are some signs that indicate you're on the correct path, it seems they're not usually around when you really need them.  However, when we left Richmond we weren't convinced we were heading in the right direction.  I'd just commented that what we really needed was some confirmation, we rounded a corner and allelujah there it was - a sign!  Confidently we proceeded, and the route took us over the A19 (not a highlight), past the village of Catterick, across several fields, getting lost, thrashing through maturing corn crops, finding a puffball mushroom, until eventually culminating in the small village of Danby Wiske.  There were no hills to climb and no views beyond farms to behold.  Wainwright had plenty to say about this 'dullest part of the walk'. He describes Danby Wiske as 'less attractive than its name' and even takes exception to the River Wiske itself, it 'being destined to meander aimlessly and hopelessly around the countryside in a vain search for a contour that would give it an objective'.  We found the village quite charming and no complaints about our stay in the White Swan Inn.

                           

Day 5 was another relatively easy walking day.  Only 9 miles and by then we were definitely feeling fitter anyway.  Our destination was the Bluebell Inn at Ingleby Cross.  We'd crossed paths with a few other walkers and decided to walk with Ann (engineering lecturer from Surrey) and John (amazingly born in Invercargill, worked in Port Hedland, now living in Victoria, Australia, and whose favourite place in the world is the Marlborough Sounds).  Not only were they good company, they were great map readers, and Ann set a brisk pace, especially uphill, which stopped us from dawdling.  Our morning tea stop was at a farm, where a table and chairs were set up in the shade (by then the heatwave was hitting) and a fridge full of chocolate bars, plasters and painkillers available for a donation.  There were signs warning us to 'Beware of the Witch', and as we crossed the connecting stile, a recording of the Wicked Witch of the West from Wizard of Oz rang out.  Very entertaining indeed.  We had plenty of time for a restful afternoon and later enjoyed totally fabulous fish and chips in the pub.    

                         

                

Throughout the Dales, late summer foliage and berries were abundant.  Back-to-back blackberries provided tasty snacks and some rehydration along the way.  Elderberries, sloes and rosehips were also at their peak, and several types of wildflowers brightened everything up.  Also en masse, and unavoidable in shorts, were nettles and thistles.

                                

Despite being aware of his penchant for contours, we eagerly embraced day 6, described by Wainwright as the 'finest section of our marathon (outside Lakeland), a splendid high-level traverse along the escarpment of the Cleveland Hills'.  This loosely translates as 'lots of ascent with fantastic views' and it didn't disappoint.  Probably my favourite day even though it included no less than 5 steep inclines to a total of about 700m.  Ann kept up a goodly pace, and when we reached the Wainstones rocks near Clay Bank Top, we called the Wainstones Hotel in Great Broughton to inform them of our imminent arrival.  The hotel offer a very welcome pick up/drop off service from the route. We had a good meal there later, and a funny moment when Peter and John ordered what they thought was a glass of red wine each.  Turns out they'd ordered carafes, not glasses, which explained the waitress's surprised response.    

Day 7 took us to a blast from the past - The Lion Inn at Blakey.  The track remained high over open moorland, the heather a little beyond its peak but still in flower.  The easy walking was complimented by easy navigation as most of the route followed the well-marked Cleveland Way.  It was very hot and the path was totally exposed without shelter.  Nonetheless it was pleasant and efficient walking.  When the Lion Inn came into sight, we remembered that it was still a long way off as the route traversed the contour of a former railway line. We arrived in plenty of time to enjoy the pleasures of the pub and its location.  Our stay was in a tiny room in the loft, and needless to say it was a hot and stuffy night, requiring lots of cooling beer.     

Day 8 took us through to lovely Grosmont, and we said goodbye en route to John in Glaisdale and Ann in Egton Bridge.  The path had taken us along a stunning ridge between Great Fryup Dale and Glaisdale Head, and we crossed the River Esk via huge stepping stones at Egton. 

The B & B at the Geall Gallery was the poshest of the whole trip, and we took full advantage of the in-room bath to soothe our weary limbs.  We headed out to the only pub and eatery in the village, only to find it fully booked.  We were just resigned to a supper of beer, crisps and peanuts when an unexpected table vacancy arose.  

The final day should have ended in Robin Hood's Bay.  Alas we had been unable to book any accommodation there, and instead booked a Whalebone Arch room in Whitby.  We had originally planned to take the bus from RHB to Whitby, but it made much more sense to simply walk to Whitby instead.  The route took us along the Esk Valley walk from Grosmont to Sleights, and then along a B road into Whitby.  Steam trains had come and gone in Grosmont, and we were also treated to a passing steam train further along the track.  

We arrived in Whitby with enough time for a pint of Theakston's before our accommodation was available.  After a clean up and rest, we made our way up the 199 steps to the magnificent Whitby Abbey, resplendent in a sea fret.  It definitely created a moody atmosphere, though the downside was that there were no views of the sea. 

From Whitby we took a bus to Scarborough and a taxi to the pick up place of our car rental, then back to Ripon.  

September 2023: the UK to follow...

                                                       

"The Coast to Coast walk is enjoyable for its beauty, for the dramatic variations of landscape and for its many interesting relics, some rooted in prehistory...I finished the Coast to Coast with regret"

Alfred Wainwright