Lower Saxony, Germany 2016

Today I'm sleeping in with a cold for companion. Lying in the warmth of the doona and typing about my trip so far is an ideal way to spend this cold winters morning in Berlin after more than a week of non stop travel and exploration.

I flew into Hanover last Tuesday evening into the welcoming arms of Cati, my friend of 14 years. A friendship started, and continued, on the written word of letters, sometimes extending to 30 pages or more in length. These days we continue writing but also email and call. We met last year and spent a week together then when I had Vaughan as my companion. This time we spent our time as just us 2 friends. We visited a total of 4 different Christmas markets, drinking heiße schokolade (hot chocolate), eating gruenkhol and sweet pastries and enjoying the specifically cold Christmas atmosphere that remains a somewhat foreign experience to the Australian traveller.

It took a couple of days for my luggage to catch up to me so Cati leant me some of her clothes in the meantime. It arrived Thursday so we socialised with her friends and family, spending the days walking around her city admiring the sights of Germany's largest business and trade city. During the day we visited farmers markets and paid her grandmother a visit. She's an artist and only speaks German and Italian so Cati had to translate for me but she was a wonderful woman to meet. An artist, the rooms in her flat contained pieces of furniture painted with landscape scenes or intricate patterns, set against a timeless classic composition of furniture. Here I am in appreciation of the flat and the woman and Cati is visiting her grandmother for a chat. We also had the opportunity to visit her dad and brother in the old flat I wrote to for so many years. It was great to meet her father, who I hadn't met yet and catch up with her brother who had recently visited Costa Rica and is studying Biology. We had a good conversation over tea and cake. Afterwards we went to her mums flat, a few blocks away, for a dinner of gnocchi. We shared some more good conversation about her childhood in Italy and by the end of the night I was all conversation-ed out. 

On Friday, armed with my fresh clothes, we caught a train to the Hartz, a mountainous region about an hour's train ride away. Here we caught a sky cable car to the top of the mountain, a previous medieval fortress and then went on a hike to a waterfall. It was fantastic to experience the true winter weather here in the mountains with the shifting cloud revealing a sharp ray of rich sunlight and then it disappears. The forest is completely different too, made up of almost entirely deciduous trees in this area. This results in skeletal mountains with soft padded ground, covered in leaves, making a lovely base for hiking.

We also stopped at Goslar, a typical German village with a brilliant little Christkindlmarkt, not huge crowds but busy enough. 

The next day it was time to move on and catch a train to Hamburg, with a stop at Lüneberg to visit a friend of Cati's for a cuppa. He is at uni there and told us all about it and it sounds like an innovative progressive uni for Germany, even considering it is such a traditional little town built on the trade of salt in the 1600-1700s.

Sad goodbyes were had at Hamburg hauptbahnhof with promises of meeting again soon, then I was into the gracious host Sina's hometown, Hamburg.

Kanangra Walls

This morning we got in a quick walk in Kanangra Boyd National Park. Shook the dust off Vaughan's Land Rover Defender and dislodged any hiding in crevices due to the potholes and corrugations along the road there. 

We had a lunch date to keep so condensed our visit to the look out and the first part of the Plataeu walk. We'll save the Dance Floor cave for next time. 

Remnants of snow 

On the plateau walk

How to connect with nature feat. metho stove

Recently I've been feeling a bit flat. Feeling that I only connect with people when I'm the one to initiate the contact, make the time and place. I've never been a huge people person and I thought 'Why this sudden focus on what you don't have? What are you missing from your life that's always been there?' And I thought about my connection with the bush.

Over the weekend I made dad promise me to invite me on any walks he was going to be doing. It poured on Monday and I was, thankfully I remember thinking that day, on afternoon shift. He walked up and back down a hill sitting on the side of one of the town's I grew up in. Yesterday I finished work at 1, raced home to saw some leaders out of our apple tree with help then made it to our friend's house in the other town by 2.45. Dad had forgotten to tell me his shifts had changed to a 4pm finish, hence a 2 hour wait ensued.

He and this mate (+1 more) are going on a hike this weekend. It's going to take about 4 or 5 days, hard going. This mate, Jason, was all prepped with the things he needed. Ultra-light sleeping bag, mat, tent, food, camelbaks, clothes, etc. We spent the 2 hours checking out his little handmade metho stove. I've heard about them, but never seemed to find the use for or even look at them before. After checking his out, I'll be making one before my next backpacking adventure. This is a link he sent me to help me make my own.

We opened up his little netted bag of cooking devices and he gave me a demonstration that sold it. 30ml of metho=6 minutes of burn time. Easiest cup of tea when you're on the go, hands down. No moving pieces, no screwing things this way and that. Now I've just got to make my own...updates to come...

So after a good look through all his gear and some good conversations about the places we've been recently or are going to, dad turned up, we got in the car and made our way. Parking behind the Lithgow sewerage treatment plant (romantic, I know) we proceeded up the hill on foot. When reaching the top we followed the road, kept in reasonable condition by powerline grid workers. It led us to a clearing with an inconspicuous bushwalkers sign hidden in the scrub leading to an overgrown, rock-lined path to a cliff top, giving you this brilliant shot of the Zig Zag viaducts (with me in the foreground-how else to prove I've been there?).

After this we walked another little way down and up another bit of a hill and were witness to an absolutely stunning sunset at another angle. 

I only had my iphone on me, but it gives you a bit of an idea of how treated we were. It wasn't even all that cold as the rain over the last couple of days seems to have acted as insulation. I took a quick snap of the other two trying to capture the sunset but you can't even see dad in his everyday wear khaki in the background, mixed with the failing light. We were on top of the hill at this time, in the gorgeous, heathy scrubland. Just before it turns into 'private property'. As if you would restrict access to people from beautiful country like this! 

So all in all after that short approximately 3km trek, my soul has been somewhat re-energised and I feel more like myself, more grounded now that I've reconnected with my country. Now to make this more of a habit.

City daybreak

Quick trip to Sydney for a reunion with old family.

Train trips and a spot of walking.

Classic Sydney Harbour panoramic from the bridge

Took the opportunity to walk across the Sydney Harbour Bridge

A glimpse of the Bridge in all its glory as we caught a ferry back to the Quay from Luna Park to get another one down the river to Abbotsford to join friends for birthday celebrations. Met a nice man whose back home from 16 years living in Uganda and had a conversation about how he feels like a stranger for being away so long. Also how aloof and cold the strangers in the city are, whereas in his past few years he's grown used to a more open people. I fear I've given him too much of a bad look of the country when we spoke about the undercurrent of racism in some small town people's minds, but overall asserted the open, friendliness regional centres can bring for tourists. Not only regional centres on second thought but also some of the quality little spots you can find in our awesome encompassing land.

Porsche Delivery

This week we've been off for a quick trip to Melbourne. My father in law decided (to various interested parties' disgust) to sell his Porsche. Yay spontaneous road trip!!!! Most expenses paid!! Woo!!

Wallendbeen Church 

Also, take note. When I say Porsche, I do not refer to a flash, new, expensive sports car. I refer to the brown 1974 coupe' which has been mostly sitting undercover at his property the past few years. It is old, a classic some might say, and delivers as much, if not more, unique class and style than today's new cars. We've a bit of a penchant for the older, used material things if you haven't yet noticed, most things included (music, style). I guess it may have something to do with my particular interest in modern history...

Concrete bridge across the Murrumbidgee

Once we got on the road, we had the opportunity to visit places we wouldn't usually go and made the time to take the road less travelled. Take for example the above causeway/bridge near Sandy Beach, somewhere near Wagga Wagga. Here we were following roads that we thought would take us in the general direction and then when we hit the main hwy (the Hume) we relaxed and cruised and made up the km's there.

Following the Porsche along an anonymous road (anonymous only because I can't remember where or when this was taken)

Old Refreshment Rooms, Junee Railway Station 

After a late night exchange with the new happy owners of the Porsche we were all in the one car for the remainder of the trip. We found our way through the country around Kingslake, a part of Victoria that was hit particularly badly when the fires came through a few years back. The country is beautiful, rolling green hills with scattered eucalypt forest, especially green due to the recent rainfalls they've had. Once we hit the outer northern suburbs of Melbourne it was a surprisingly quick route into the city. We had to stop first at Eurobrit, a specialist motorcycle store. Some hubs for a Moto Guzzi were in order. The chat proved especially helpful as well, making connections and learning the who's who of the parts world concerning Norton's and the like.

Magpie warbling at Yea as the sun begins to show itself behind the clearing clouds

From here I was dropped in Toorak at Como House, a Heritage building encompassing a mix of Regency and Italianate architecture in the more affluent suburbs of the city. Main highlights for me included the vegetable gardens and Esmerelda the Plymoth Rock hen, the only left until a restock.

Como House

Unfortunately the house is only open for tours on weekends. The importance of upkeep of these treasures harking back to our history are crucial and a higher standard of management by those in the upper levels of the management of these building would improve the works of the volunteers who are at the ready to contribute time and effort. These beautiful time capsules are an opportunity just waiting for development and use. The lovely volunteer at the desk informed me that for some peculiar reason the house was only allowed 6 private functions a year. It is astonishing why there would be a limit put on such things occurring when they are a potential major source of income to keep these places going. One is left stumbling for reasons behind such things but for the moment the grounds are ship-shape and well worth the visit.

Como House vegetable garden

Vegetable gardens take two, featuring marigolds and rosemary

From here I enjoyed figuring out the tram system back towards the city, with some help from helpful locals. All those I was fortunate enough to converse with were either a great help or, another fellow traveller, provided good conversation through the trip on foot. I made it to the grounds of the Botanic Gardens, where the Remembrance Shrine rests. At the moment they have an exhibition of the battle of Pozieres, a particularly poignant battle due to the huge losses sustained by the Australian troops. It was chosen due to it's centenary commemorations.

Dodgy panorama of the Remembrance shrine

While I really savour modern social histories, the dates and details so frequently mentioned when speaking of such atrocities have never seemed to stick in my mind. When one pursues information or discussion about such military histories the dates are presented as so very stark and I feel this is a failure on my memory's part. Despite this, specific pictures, stories and experiences stand out. The one that struck me particularly was the aerial photograph of the Moquet farm before and after the battle, only weeks apart.

Another thing that strikes me particularly is the actuality that it was someone's farm, people actually worked here tending animals and paddocks (or fields or the French equivalent). That thousands of people lost their lives on this particular patch of ground is mind numbing. The numbers and event itself surpasses reality when comparing it to home. I can't even begin to imagine thousands of men fighting over organised borders of patches of land in Australia. Our history as a country is fraught with brutality but the sheer concentration in one location I guess is difficult for me to visualise.

The morose mood was gradually lightened by a child about 4 constantly asking his grandparents questions about anything relating to the exhibition and otherwise, wherever his young mind took him. One particular exchange stood out to me:

Child (on viewing a film on the Battle of Pozieres): "When you go to heaven do you take your body with you?"
Grandparent: "No, it's left on earth"
Child: "If you can't take your body with you, how do you play cricket and stuff?"

Children are so often the voice of reason.

La Trobe's cottage, just nearby the Shrine

From the exhibition I climbed the staircase up to the top of the Shrine, well worth it for the beautiful architecture they've chosen to immortalise the brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice (Some may question what for, but that is for another time). From here the walk back to modern life through the Botanic Gardens is grounding and gorgeous. You almost forget you're in the middle of one of Australia's major cities.

A remembrance garden for the pioneer women of Victoria. I want one.

That night we visited the Berlin bar, tucked away in the second story of a random building in Chinatown. It is divided into the East and West, the west modelled off a James Bond film. The experience is well worth the visit. It's unusual for a couple in their early 20's to be in bed before 10 but we managed to fit in a lot and had to rest, before driving back to the border the next day.

That morning we fitted in a trip to the Old Melbourne Gaol, the reviews you read are true. A fabulous stop for a bit of history. We also popped into the State Library to have a look around. Enjoy the fabulous pictorials.

State Library 1

State Library 2

Old Melbourne Gaol

On the drive out of the city we stopped at Thornbury for lunch. We saw a little cafe' called 'Le cafe Flo' and decided to drop in. It was raining and pretty cool (temperature-wise). We stepped through the door and a wall of warm air met us and we had fallen into a little cafe' in a small French town, even the waitress was French. Oh, how I love French cuisine, so rich, flavourful and delicious. The perfect way to make our exit.

Beef Bourguignon with a simple mash and salad. So yum

The road home delivered us through the Riverina and Central west NSW, visiting rellies and picking lemons, mandarins and oranges. The country is gorgeous at the moment, rivers full to the top of their banks and the hills green. Such a pleasant drive, even when there were a few hours spent on the Hume.

Adventures over, today I'm spending catching up with real life again, working this afternoon. The chooks are out scratching around, the dog is at my feet in front of the fire. It's not a particularly late shift so I'll have time to relax with tonight's slow cooked dinner once I get home, a Cauliflower Balti, what a joy slow cookers are. It's about time I get to finishing up some of my assignments.

Until our next little catch up,

Caitlin.

South Coast Weekend Getaway

Last Friday I was on afternoon shift and when Vaughan and I left each other's company he vowed if he had a productive evening of math study we would be off camping the next morning. During my shift I was offered a couple of weekend shifts and had to make the call, full of anticipation, of whether or not the study had been done. Thankfully for me, it had! Unfortunately the girls had to find someone else to cover the shifts... So the next morning we packed up and we were off!

We travelled south through Oberon, through the mountainous Abercrombie country towards Goulburn where plans to catch up with a cousin of mine were cut short. From there we wound our way through the Southern highlands to Braidwood, a heritage town I can't recall ever going through before. A gorgeous little stop with c.1890-1900 buildings along the Main Street and a Catholic cathedral with a sizeable bell tower out the front. From there we left along the poplar lined road towards the Kings Hwy which led us straight easy to Batemans Bay. The scenery changed so rapidly from here, gently undulating dry farmland with classically English trees to the hills descending to the coast, of semi-temperate rainforest, trees up to about 40 metres tall in places.

From here it was a short half hour north to Kioloa where I remember coming as a kid. What I didn't remember from childhood was the lack of phone reception, an added extra. Probably because I wasn't caught up in the virtual world at that time. We set up camp, 30 metres at most from the edge of the beach and stopped. Fish and chips on the beach for dinner and the dog met the ocean for her first time.

Such a perfect spot. Stopping, with no distractions, to enjoy each other's company was the best part. We spent the night watching the stars then listening to possums, which Zali wasn't too sure about. She was fine once she was in the tent sleeping on our feet though, a special occasion. 

Crystal clear water and an ambient air temperature meant perfect weather for a dip that morning, despite the looming blanket of cloud threatening to drizzle. Zali was confused at how I could get waist deep in the ocean, diving into the waves crashing towards us without drowning. She stopped barking at each oncoming wave when she was concentrating on how to reach me. I waded back to the ankle depth waves for her a few times though, to allay her worries. The water was perfect, so clear and blue. And the sunrise magical, just what was needed to refresh the soul after a few long weeks at work. After savouring the morning we packed up and jumped back in the car, journey up the east coast this time-Ulladulla, Nowra, Wollongong (where I hadn't time to stop and see uni friends), to work our way through the suburbs on the edge of the coast towards the Royal National Park. It's amazing to think we have such a glorious semi-temperate rainforest just on the edges of NSW's capital city, Sydney. The drive was soothing, winding through the hills, seemingly taller because of the trees than the actual rise and fall of the landscape. Must go back and go for a weekend hike sometime. We entered the south eastern suburbs of Sydney and as we all started to get tired, our mental strength faded and we argued but this is one of the unavoidable facts of life. Not everything is roses and I want to include it because life is never perfect. We got through the other side though. Listening, not hearing but actually listening is an important, no vital skill to use in even your most low moods. Listening to your other half and trying to understand, even when it is hard is so important and I believe, even at this early stage in life, is part of the secret to living a happy and wholesome life. 

We made it home about 5 hours later after a detour to my parents for a BBQ, for which I am grateful for not having to cook. This was the end of our trip and we climbed into bed ready for work for me and uni for him tomorrow, back to it, to do our best in a different regard.