Monkey Mia was an absolute must see, according to me. It's a resort town on a peninsula further south down Australia's west coast, known the world over for the wild dolphins that come ashore every morning to be fed from the Monkey Mia Resort staff. For a mere $8 each ($2 more dollars than our 2009 guide book says) 
you are allowed the privileged of entrance into the resort for the day (although they won't let you use their landry facilities, we asked), including the 845am 'dolphin encounter.' If I seem a bit disheartened- it's because I was, at first. There were a million people on the beach all lined up ready to 'encounter' one of the only two dolphins who had shown up for the morning feed. Dolphins have been fed at Monkey Mia for years and years. Back in the 70's people could feed the dolphins right from the beach, whatever they wanted (which usually was bread, chips and the like), whenever they wanted (which was all day every day.) It 
doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that this is a bad idea. Dolphin calves were dying because they were being ignored by their mothers, the dolphins weren't in any way living a normal dolphin life and the male dolphins were becoming increasingly aggressive. These days Monkey Mia feeds only five female dolphins. They are always the same ones and the staff has detailed knowledge about their lives. There is a maximum of three feedings a day, all before noon, and determined by the dolphins when they show up and each dolphin receives 1.5kg of the 10-12kg of fish that the dolphin will eat that day. This leaves the dolphins with the rest of the afternoon to partake in normal daily dolphin activities, like jumping through hoops and balancing beach-balls on their noses whilst swimming backwards propelled out of their waters by their tales... Just kidding. Anyways. I was SO excited to see the dolphins up-close and (fingers crossed) I would be 
one of the lucky ones chosen to feed a dolphin! I even donned my cozzie (Australian for bathing suit) just in case a dolphin offered me a swim. It became abundantly clear that this was not going to happen. In fact, I wasn't even going to be able to wade into the water up to my ankles (which is the entire 'encounter' part by the way). There were more people there trying to fit their fat ankles into the water on the 20ft stretch of beach then we had seen since they were giving away free $100 bills.... Even if I had pushed my way to the front of the crowd there is no way that I would be chosen to feed the dolphins. There were far too many cute, dimpeled children, bikini-clad 20-somethings and sweet looking grandmother types to choose from. Things in my dolphin fantasy weren't looking up. We ended up giving up on the 'encounter' and instead watched from the pier. It was disappointing. Just as we were in the gift shop stocking up on discounted postcards to 
send you, our loved ones, we caught wind that the dolphins were back for a second feeding! I rushed down to the beach and within two feet of a mother dolphin and her 1 year old calf. It was looking like this detour was living up to it's $8 entry fee. Since most people had left after the first feeding, we were 2 of only about 20 people vying for ankle room. I was passed by again to feed the dolphins. Darn. The person to the right of Jonathan was chosen though, so we were getting closer. By the third feeding at 1030am or so, there were three mother dolphins with their calfs and only about 15 people. The volunteer brought the fish bucket into the water and scanned the crowd for the first lucky dolphin feeder. 'The guy with the big red beard!' she declared. 'The guy with the big red beard' 
of course, was Jonathan. He turned to me and generously asked, 'Do you want to go?' My head was saying 'YES YES YES! Of course I want to go! Get out of my way 'big red beard' I have a dolphin to feed!' But, what I actually said was 'No, it's ok, you can go.' (!!!!!) Even as the words were coming out of my mouth I couldn't believe I had said them. What was I thinking? My thoughts all morning had been consumed with potential dolphin feeding scenarios. As Jonathan walked out and took the fish from the volunteer my head was screaming 'NOOO. I take it back, I want to go! Come back! Come back!' But what I did instead was dutifully photograph Jonathan feeding the dolphin (and having a meaningful, personal, once in a lifetime, human-dolphin moment). Jonathan smiled for the photos. He really couldn't care less about feeding the dolphin. This story reminds me of one my Gramma always tells. Really, its a shame that I'm not better
at learning from other people's mistakes. When Gramma was a cute little young-in she was taken out for ice cream by friends of the family. When Gramma was asked if she wanted some ice cream, she, being a shy little girl, said 'No thank you.' And so, she didn't get ice cream. Of course she wanted ice cream! Everyone wants ice cream. This non-ice cream ice cream excursion all those years ago was so disappointing to a wee Gramma that she always tells us the important lesson it taught her. If you want something, and you are offered it: Take it. (And, never ever turn down ice cream). If only I had listened. 'I should have gone' I confessed to Jonathan when he was back on shore. 'Of course you should have gone!' he exclaimed. 'But I guess I should have told you my plan. I decided earlier that if I got picked I would let you go instead. I knew I was going to get picked, so I should have warned you' says my humble hubby. 'How did you KNOW
you were going to get picked?!' I challenged. 'Look at me' he said, 'I have a mop of hair, a big, red bushy beard and I am wearing a long sleeved collared shirt: I stand out.' On the plus side, at least he finally admits it.
Hundreds and hundreds of kilometers down the coast we stop in the little seaside town of Kalbarri. There is a daily pelican feed down on the beach. It's free. There are five massive pelicans awaiting the arrival of their buck-o-fish when we show up. 'Who wants to feed the pelicans?' The volunteer asks. Jonathan looks at me. My hand shoots up in the air and I start waving it frantically like she has just offered a cheque for $1,000,000, and not a staunch opportunity to throw a stinky fish
to a mangey bird. It's all part of my new never-turn-down-a-chance-to-feed-a-wild-animal philosophy. Since I am the only one who looks like they may have a coronary if they don't get to feed a pelican, the volunteer takes pity on me and hands me a fish. I chose the best looking pelican, aimed the fish, and was about to have my fulfilling replacement dolphin feeding experience when a stupid seagull swooped in out of left field and stole the stupid fish RIGHT out of my hand. The crowd thought this was hilarious and laughed at me. At me. Not with me, because I most certainly wasn't laughing. But still, there were several fish in the bucket waiting to be launched into the air, caught in a large beak and then gulped down into the netherworld of Pelican Stomachus. With terrifyingly accurate aim, the less-slimy-than-I-would-have-thought-it-would-be, yet still scaly projectile flew
up then down right on target and plunked right into the pelicans elastic-like beak. Though the pelican feed was satisfying, I still had some lingering annoyance about giving up the opportunity to feed flipper.
I was so annoyed that we decided to leave the country. We drove down a dusty dirt road for 30km or so to the border of 'Australia's second largest country.' There were tumbleweeds as big as the van rolling across our path as we made our way through the desert/farm land. Not often can land can be a desert and farmland at the same time. We did not pass a single soul all the way to the isolated border.
Are you thinking I've been hit over the head one too many times with a surfboard? So was the Australian government, I reckon, when Leonard (now self crowned Prince Leonard) declared his 75 sq km wheat farm 'Hutt River' an independent principality. The story goes something like this. In 1969 the Western Australia government passed new legislation regarding wheat farming that left HRH Leonard and Princess Shirley feeling very ripped off. When their protests were to no avail, Leonard took matters into his own hands, and seceded from Australia. It sounds as though it has been a fight to maintain his kingdom's sovereignty ever since. We arrived and HRH himself greeted us and generously offered to take us around and show off his 'crown jewels.' Prince Leonard and his wife, Princess Shirley have a huge collection of memorabila from the last 40 years, as well as gift, letters and momentos from royalty around the globe. You can purchase Hutt River currency, postcards, pins and flags. They have their own government
building, post office, church and giftshop. Its like a typical treasure of odds and ends that any grandparent may have on display around their house, only the items are, signed by the Chinese president, for example. And, there's a campsite, if you are so inclined to spend the night next door to a royal. After a thorough check of our passports under an ultraviolet light, the Prince stamped our entry and exit into his country. Since I had promised my mom a postcard from every country, I dutifully purchased a fitting postcard of Princess Shirley for Princess Penny and posted it from Hutt River. His Royal Highness himself even signed it! I had been reluctant when Jonathan wanted to venture in on the unsealed road and cross the border, but in the end, I am so happy that we spent the afternoon in Hutt River with Prince Leonard. I mean, how many times do you get a private tour by a 
real live Royal. Prince Leonard presides over his 24 citizens with dignity and pride. With a plethora of children, grandchildren and now 28 great-grand children, it appears as though the Principality will live on for many many years without worrying about running out of heirs.
Back in Australia proper, we stopped in the charming city of Geraldton, which also happens to be Jacqui's (from Darwin) hometown. We stopped in at the Western Australia museum which had great displays about shipwrecks off the coast, and all the murder, mutiny and lost treasure surrounding them. We then made what was meant to be a quick peak at the old jail house, whose cells have since been turned into craft stalls. It was one of the longest running gouls in Western Australia and framed stories along the cement walls provided interesting insights to the happenings of a jailhouse in the 1800-1900s. One of the cell turned craft stalls was run by woodsman,
Dave. Dave was a friendly stout Aussie with grey hair and a beard that started under his chin. He had a contagious, and a wealth of knowledge of native Jarrah wood, which he shared with us for over an hour. We watched the jeep-fulls of shirtless Aussie surfer-dudes carelessly cruise by the white sandy town beach while eating delicious homemade ice cream and suddenly it was time to move on. Perth was looming and we wanted to make a quick stop to see the Pinnacles Desert before then...
Downtown Perth left me humming 'Silver Bells.' The streets were
packed with the hustle and bustle of a holiday season. 'Dressed in Holiday style' had a slightly different look however, in the 30 degree weather. All of Perth's beautiful women were immaculately dressed in flowing floral dresses, or sleek business-like knee length frocks. Their hair remained remarkably frizz free and polished despite the heat. It was all quite impressive. As we were people -watching (or gawking) from a bench, munching on our typical supermarket-style lunch one of Perth's slightly less appealing characters ambled up. His hat read 'Fifty is Nifty' and rested on a nest of bushy grey hair. He eyed our picnic of a pre-made salad and yougurt. He smiled showing off his 6 crooked yellow teeth. 'Are you vegetarian?' he asked. 'Yes,' replied Jonathan, 'are you?' 'Half and half,' he told us. He was a half and half vegetarian. Interesting concept. We stopped at a bakery to pick up a couple rolls for our plane ride the next day. There was an interesting roll called 'tiger fibre roll.' 'What is that tiger fibre bread?' I asked the young blonde girl behind 
the counter. She stopped and looked at me with wide eyes for a moment like she didn't quite understand the complexity of the question. But she pulled through. 'Ummm, it's like, ummmmmmm like bread, with like, umm, like, umm, like, umm, like, umm, like fibre?' she asked me. 'Ooook...' I answered. Not quite sure how I would have come to know the answer, but it was comforting to know that valley-girls exist virtually in clone the world over.
The highlight of our final days in Australia, however, was meeting up with Jacqui (the other Jacqui of Jacqui and Jacqui). She had generously offered for us to stay in the spare room at her beautiful house and we were really looking forward to catching up on the last four years or so. Jacqui is friendly, generous, cute and funny. She had a wonderful idea of a picnic in Kings Park, a large, green, tree filled park on a hill overlooking the city of Perth. We stopped for picnic fixings and were on our way up. We strolled around the paved path admiring the great views of the city below. We ate our delicious deli fixings on a proper picnic blanket and watched as the last of the sun's golden hues drained from the sky. We chatted and chatted and chatted.
Jacqui has so many interesting stories. She has travelled quite extensively and recently to China for the 2008 Olympics. Her pictures were fantastic and her adventures have us looking forward to China even more so. The next morning Jacqui even got up and ready extra early just to drive us to the airport for our flight to Bali! It was so so nice, and we certainly appreciated it. Again we are overwhelmed with how lucky we are in friendship.
Dolphin Fact: Female dolphins get along quite well and hang out in pods often. Once a female is old enough to reproduce, she is pretty much in a constant cycle of being pregnant, raising her calf alone for the next three years, and then getting pregnant and doing it all over again. They have babies throughout their entire lives. No menapause for them. Males, on the other hand, mostly hang out with other male buddies, doing boy things and chasing the girls around. After they have done their part to impregnate the female, they simply swim back off to their 'bro-mance' of staying up late, drinking and playing cards. Rough life, guys.
ps. The black dog in the photo above is one of many furry friends in Jonathan's fan club. As usual. We were walking along the beach and Rover spotted Jonathan and made a b-line for him, rubbing up against him and thumping his back leg on the ground when Jonathan scratched him behind the ears. He went off and returned with a gift for the newest member of his pack: a dead, dried up baby ocean sunfish that he kept ramming into Jonathan's legs. How nice of him! And Jonathan didn't even appreciate the offering!
you are allowed the privileged of entrance into the resort for the day (although they won't let you use their landry facilities, we asked), including the 845am 'dolphin encounter.' If I seem a bit disheartened- it's because I was, at first. There were a million people on the beach all lined up ready to 'encounter' one of the only two dolphins who had shown up for the morning feed. Dolphins have been fed at Monkey Mia for years and years. Back in the 70's people could feed the dolphins right from the beach, whatever they wanted (which usually was bread, chips and the like), whenever they wanted (which was all day every day.) It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that this is a bad idea. Dolphin calves were dying because they were being ignored by their mothers, the dolphins weren't in any way living a normal dolphin life and the male dolphins were becoming increasingly aggressive. These days Monkey Mia feeds only five female dolphins. They are always the same ones and the staff has detailed knowledge about their lives. There is a maximum of three feedings a day, all before noon, and determined by the dolphins when they show up and each dolphin receives 1.5kg of the 10-12kg of fish that the dolphin will eat that day. This leaves the dolphins with the rest of the afternoon to partake in normal daily dolphin activities, like jumping through hoops and balancing beach-balls on their noses whilst swimming backwards propelled out of their waters by their tales... Just kidding. Anyways. I was SO excited to see the dolphins up-close and (fingers crossed) I would be one of the lucky ones chosen to feed a dolphin! I even donned my cozzie (Australian for bathing suit) just in case a dolphin offered me a swim. It became abundantly clear that this was not going to happen. In fact, I wasn't even going to be able to wade into the water up to my ankles (which is the entire 'encounter' part by the way). There were more people there trying to fit their fat ankles into the water on the 20ft stretch of beach then we had seen since they were giving away free $100 bills.... Even if I had pushed my way to the front of the crowd there is no way that I would be chosen to feed the dolphins. There were far too many cute, dimpeled children, bikini-clad 20-somethings and sweet looking grandmother types to choose from. Things in my dolphin fantasy weren't looking up. We ended up giving up on the 'encounter' and instead watched from the pier. It was disappointing. Just as we were in the gift shop stocking up on discounted postcards to send you, our loved ones, we caught wind that the dolphins were back for a second feeding! I rushed down to the beach and within two feet of a mother dolphin and her 1 year old calf. It was looking like this detour was living up to it's $8 entry fee. Since most people had left after the first feeding, we were 2 of only about 20 people vying for ankle room. I was passed by again to feed the dolphins. Darn. The person to the right of Jonathan was chosen though, so we were getting closer. By the third feeding at 1030am or so, there were three mother dolphins with their calfs and only about 15 people. The volunteer brought the fish bucket into the water and scanned the crowd for the first lucky dolphin feeder. 'The guy with the big red beard!' she declared. 'The guy with the big red beard' of course, was Jonathan. He turned to me and generously asked, 'Do you want to go?' My head was saying 'YES YES YES! Of course I want to go! Get out of my way 'big red beard' I have a dolphin to feed!' But, what I actually said was 'No, it's ok, you can go.' (!!!!!) Even as the words were coming out of my mouth I couldn't believe I had said them. What was I thinking? My thoughts all morning had been consumed with potential dolphin feeding scenarios. As Jonathan walked out and took the fish from the volunteer my head was screaming 'NOOO. I take it back, I want to go! Come back! Come back!' But what I did instead was dutifully photograph Jonathan feeding the dolphin (and having a meaningful, personal, once in a lifetime, human-dolphin moment). Jonathan smiled for the photos. He really couldn't care less about feeding the dolphin. This story reminds me of one my Gramma always tells. Really, its a shame that I'm not better at learning from other people's mistakes. When Gramma was a cute little young-in she was taken out for ice cream by friends of the family. When Gramma was asked if she wanted some ice cream, she, being a shy little girl, said 'No thank you.' And so, she didn't get ice cream. Of course she wanted ice cream! Everyone wants ice cream. This non-ice cream ice cream excursion all those years ago was so disappointing to a wee Gramma that she always tells us the important lesson it taught her. If you want something, and you are offered it: Take it. (And, never ever turn down ice cream). If only I had listened. 'I should have gone' I confessed to Jonathan when he was back on shore. 'Of course you should have gone!' he exclaimed. 'But I guess I should have told you my plan. I decided earlier that if I got picked I would let you go instead. I knew I was going to get picked, so I should have warned you' says my humble hubby. 'How did you KNOW you were going to get picked?!' I challenged. 'Look at me' he said, 'I have a mop of hair, a big, red bushy beard and I am wearing a long sleeved collared shirt: I stand out.' On the plus side, at least he finally admits it.Hundreds and hundreds of kilometers down the coast we stop in the little seaside town of Kalbarri. There is a daily pelican feed down on the beach. It's free. There are five massive pelicans awaiting the arrival of their buck-o-fish when we show up. 'Who wants to feed the pelicans?' The volunteer asks. Jonathan looks at me. My hand shoots up in the air and I start waving it frantically like she has just offered a cheque for $1,000,000, and not a staunch opportunity to throw a stinky fish
to a mangey bird. It's all part of my new never-turn-down-a-chance-to-feed-a-wild-animal philosophy. Since I am the only one who looks like they may have a coronary if they don't get to feed a pelican, the volunteer takes pity on me and hands me a fish. I chose the best looking pelican, aimed the fish, and was about to have my fulfilling replacement dolphin feeding experience when a stupid seagull swooped in out of left field and stole the stupid fish RIGHT out of my hand. The crowd thought this was hilarious and laughed at me. At me. Not with me, because I most certainly wasn't laughing. But still, there were several fish in the bucket waiting to be launched into the air, caught in a large beak and then gulped down into the netherworld of Pelican Stomachus. With terrifyingly accurate aim, the less-slimy-than-I-would-have-thought-it-would-be, yet still scaly projectile flew up then down right on target and plunked right into the pelicans elastic-like beak. Though the pelican feed was satisfying, I still had some lingering annoyance about giving up the opportunity to feed flipper.I was so annoyed that we decided to leave the country. We drove down a dusty dirt road for 30km or so to the border of 'Australia's second largest country.' There were tumbleweeds as big as the van rolling across our path as we made our way through the desert/farm land. Not often can land can be a desert and farmland at the same time. We did not pass a single soul all the way to the isolated border.
Are you thinking I've been hit over the head one too many times with a surfboard? So was the Australian government, I reckon, when Leonard (now self crowned Prince Leonard) declared his 75 sq km wheat farm 'Hutt River' an independent principality. The story goes something like this. In 1969 the Western Australia government passed new legislation regarding wheat farming that left HRH Leonard and Princess Shirley feeling very ripped off. When their protests were to no avail, Leonard took matters into his own hands, and seceded from Australia. It sounds as though it has been a fight to maintain his kingdom's sovereignty ever since. We arrived and HRH himself greeted us and generously offered to take us around and show off his 'crown jewels.' Prince Leonard and his wife, Princess Shirley have a huge collection of memorabila from the last 40 years, as well as gift, letters and momentos from royalty around the globe. You can purchase Hutt River currency, postcards, pins and flags. They have their own government building, post office, church and giftshop. Its like a typical treasure of odds and ends that any grandparent may have on display around their house, only the items are, signed by the Chinese president, for example. And, there's a campsite, if you are so inclined to spend the night next door to a royal. After a thorough check of our passports under an ultraviolet light, the Prince stamped our entry and exit into his country. Since I had promised my mom a postcard from every country, I dutifully purchased a fitting postcard of Princess Shirley for Princess Penny and posted it from Hutt River. His Royal Highness himself even signed it! I had been reluctant when Jonathan wanted to venture in on the unsealed road and cross the border, but in the end, I am so happy that we spent the afternoon in Hutt River with Prince Leonard. I mean, how many times do you get a private tour by a real live Royal. Prince Leonard presides over his 24 citizens with dignity and pride. With a plethora of children, grandchildren and now 28 great-grand children, it appears as though the Principality will live on for many many years without worrying about running out of heirs. Back in Australia proper, we stopped in the charming city of Geraldton, which also happens to be Jacqui's (from Darwin) hometown. We stopped in at the Western Australia museum which had great displays about shipwrecks off the coast, and all the murder, mutiny and lost treasure surrounding them. We then made what was meant to be a quick peak at the old jail house, whose cells have since been turned into craft stalls. It was one of the longest running gouls in Western Australia and framed stories along the cement walls provided interesting insights to the happenings of a jailhouse in the 1800-1900s. One of the cell turned craft stalls was run by woodsman,
Dave. Dave was a friendly stout Aussie with grey hair and a beard that started under his chin. He had a contagious, and a wealth of knowledge of native Jarrah wood, which he shared with us for over an hour. We watched the jeep-fulls of shirtless Aussie surfer-dudes carelessly cruise by the white sandy town beach while eating delicious homemade ice cream and suddenly it was time to move on. Perth was looming and we wanted to make a quick stop to see the Pinnacles Desert before then...Downtown Perth left me humming 'Silver Bells.' The streets were
packed with the hustle and bustle of a holiday season. 'Dressed in Holiday style' had a slightly different look however, in the 30 degree weather. All of Perth's beautiful women were immaculately dressed in flowing floral dresses, or sleek business-like knee length frocks. Their hair remained remarkably frizz free and polished despite the heat. It was all quite impressive. As we were people -watching (or gawking) from a bench, munching on our typical supermarket-style lunch one of Perth's slightly less appealing characters ambled up. His hat read 'Fifty is Nifty' and rested on a nest of bushy grey hair. He eyed our picnic of a pre-made salad and yougurt. He smiled showing off his 6 crooked yellow teeth. 'Are you vegetarian?' he asked. 'Yes,' replied Jonathan, 'are you?' 'Half and half,' he told us. He was a half and half vegetarian. Interesting concept. We stopped at a bakery to pick up a couple rolls for our plane ride the next day. There was an interesting roll called 'tiger fibre roll.' 'What is that tiger fibre bread?' I asked the young blonde girl behind the counter. She stopped and looked at me with wide eyes for a moment like she didn't quite understand the complexity of the question. But she pulled through. 'Ummm, it's like, ummmmmmm like bread, with like, umm, like, umm, like, umm, like, umm, like fibre?' she asked me. 'Ooook...' I answered. Not quite sure how I would have come to know the answer, but it was comforting to know that valley-girls exist virtually in clone the world over.The highlight of our final days in Australia, however, was meeting up with Jacqui (the other Jacqui of Jacqui and Jacqui). She had generously offered for us to stay in the spare room at her beautiful house and we were really looking forward to catching up on the last four years or so. Jacqui is friendly, generous, cute and funny. She had a wonderful idea of a picnic in Kings Park, a large, green, tree filled park on a hill overlooking the city of Perth. We stopped for picnic fixings and were on our way up. We strolled around the paved path admiring the great views of the city below. We ate our delicious deli fixings on a proper picnic blanket and watched as the last of the sun's golden hues drained from the sky. We chatted and chatted and chatted.
Jacqui has so many interesting stories. She has travelled quite extensively and recently to China for the 2008 Olympics. Her pictures were fantastic and her adventures have us looking forward to China even more so. The next morning Jacqui even got up and ready extra early just to drive us to the airport for our flight to Bali! It was so so nice, and we certainly appreciated it. Again we are overwhelmed with how lucky we are in friendship.Dolphin Fact: Female dolphins get along quite well and hang out in pods often. Once a female is old enough to reproduce, she is pretty much in a constant cycle of being pregnant, raising her calf alone for the next three years, and then getting pregnant and doing it all over again. They have babies throughout their entire lives. No menapause for them. Males, on the other hand, mostly hang out with other male buddies, doing boy things and chasing the girls around. After they have done their part to impregnate the female, they simply swim back off to their 'bro-mance' of staying up late, drinking and playing cards. Rough life, guys.
ps. The black dog in the photo above is one of many furry friends in Jonathan's fan club. As usual. We were walking along the beach and Rover spotted Jonathan and made a b-line for him, rubbing up against him and thumping his back leg on the ground when Jonathan scratched him behind the ears. He went off and returned with a gift for the newest member of his pack: a dead, dried up baby ocean sunfish that he kept ramming into Jonathan's legs. How nice of him! And Jonathan didn't even appreciate the offering!
We left the comforts of Darwin Saturday morning after one last market browse. I just love markets. The sights, smells, colours, excitement. We were headed to Kakadu National Park. One of the best National Parks in the world, our Lonely Planet said. Our first night we headed to Ubirr, famous for it's ancient aboriginal rock art and stunning sunsets. Unfortunately dark, imposing clouds blocked our view of the setting sun, but the view from the top of the cliffs at the magnificent landscape was worth the effort in itself. We met a friendly aboriginal ranger wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt. I was barely even wearing a strapless dress and drank litres of water a day without ever having to go to the bathroom because I sweated so much. We are in crocodile land. She told us all about it. It was hot, 
though. And very, very humid. Attempting to sleep in a van maybe wasn't the best idea we have ever had on a 40degree airless night. We flew through the rest of the Northern Territory, unfortunately because we couldn't take the heat. It's true. We might just be wimps. But, you know what they say, 'If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen.'
us in awe for the hours, and hours and hours (and hours) we drove. I wish we could have stayed longer to enjoy it. Next time.
They might just be robotic cows strategically placed to keep drivers on their toes. You would think it would be easy pickings for the crocs in the North due to the limited watering holes. I would use the term 'livestock' but this would be a loose description. In particular the 'live' part. There may have been as many dead cows on the side of the road as live ones lurking on the yellow lines. Maybe this is how they make leather in the outback? This topic requires further research.
jolted across the centre line. It wasn't until it was behind us that we could see clearly in the rear view mirrors the perfect outline of a little tornado. One thing you can say about driving (and driving) in Australia: it's never boring. Whipitty Whip.
4wheel drive jeeps down onto the beach for sunset. Oh, and camels. Not wild, but there nonetheless doing their part to complete the Cable Beach atmosphere. All good things come to an end. Some things, like Cable Beach do it in style. The white sand somehow miraculously morphs into firey red cliffs made of shapely carved rocks contrasting the blue blue ocean leaving you in a take-your-breath-away sort of moment. Wow. So this is why people come ALL the way up here. Wow. Just wow. Because, really it is ALL the way. 611km north of the nearest town linked by flat, relatively featureless terrain. You have to really want to come to Broome. But you do. 
People from Western Australia will argue that some of the world's best beaches are in these parts. I would find it hard to disagree. The sand is snow-white. The water is so turquoise, so clear, so gorgeous that I can't look away. Apparently the wonder of this beach is not lost on Flatback Sea Turtles either. After almost 20 years of drifting around the world they return to the very beach that they were hatched to lay eggs themselves. They come ashore an hour before high tide between November and February. 
Turtles are amazing creatures. As hatchlings they only have about a one in a thousand chance for survival! They scurry down the beach to the ocean, being picked off by awaiting sea birds and then into the ocean where they are eaten by fish and other predators. They then spend the next ten years or so 'lost' at sea, drifting in the currents, eating and growing. They come back to the warm coastal waters in their teens and spend the rest of their years returning to these sites. Female turtles do not start reproducing until they are between the ages of 20 and 50! They always return to the very beach that they were born and mate with many different males before they lay their eggs, meaning one clutch can have multiple dads. Another amazing tidbit is that the sex of the turtle depends on the temperature of the sand! If the sand is warm, all the hatchlings will be female and if its cooler, they will all be male! Australian Conservation Volunteers were on-site to monitor the turtles, so with our wealth of information we headed down to the beach as
the sun was setting to sit quietly and still in hopes of sighting one of these amazing animals. As the sky turned orange-y gold and the last rays of the sun fell behind the earth the first turtle crashed onto the beach in a tidal wave and laboriously began to make her way up to the beach. WOW!!! Turtles are endangered. And, surprise, surprise, the main reason is humans. Like most wild animals they are very timid and will not come ashore if there are people moving about or making lots of noise. You can imagine with only a smidgen of a chance for survival to begin with, obnoxious humans don't help the odds. Sometimes they even abort the eggs into the ocean in all the hype. It was to our horror, then, that as this mother, full of eggs, began her way up the beach, that an ignorant 20-something spotted her, ran past her to grab his camera out of his SUV which was parked on the beach, and then proceeded to literally chase the poor terrified turtle in circles trying to take her picture. This was followed by a girl, racing across the beach with her point-and-shoot, to capture the moment. We watched in disgust. There are signs EVERYWHERE informing people about the turtles. Even if there weren't, one would think it would be common sense not to chase around a wild animal. 
Especially one that obviously can't get away. Turtles aren't known for their quickness, as you may know. They are graceful in the water, but extremely awkward on land. The turtle, after what seemed like eons finally found a sliver of space between Stupid#1 and Ignoramous#2 to make her escape back into the ocean. Not, however, before the whole shamause was spotted by the all and mighty 'Turbo' (as named by us).
This is three halves. It should paint a picture for you. A big, crispy beer bellied picture..Allow me to paint a picture. Take an nine and a half month pregnant lady. Now take Steve Irwin. Now, use your imagination. Put the belly on the Steve, the animal advocate and throw your concoction into the deep fryer for about an hour and PRESTO!: Turbo. He stormed right up to the Goof show and tore one, big, massive strip off the two of them. Arms were flailing, postures were intense, profanities were drifting in the ocean breeze. I am half surprised he didn't grab the camera's right form their grubby little paws and toss them into the ocean in protest. 
The only thing that maintained it's composure through this whole ordeal was his beer. Tucked safely in it's cozzie. The photographers fled and he turned his eagle eye to us. Uh Oh. I looked around. I was shaking in my flip flops. Were we doing something bad? I haven't moved the whole time: I swear! '$&)@&$ dumb People!' he greeted us. He came in peace. Turbo lives on Vancouver Island half the year, but 'hasn't spent a winter in Canada in 12 years.' 'Wow, you must have a great job that you can do on the road,' Jon commented. Turbo whirled around. 'Why do you ask that?' he demanded. 'Well it just sounds like a fantastic way to live your life..' Jonathan recovered. Apparently Turbo's source of income was a guarded secret. 'You gotta make life what you want it, man' was his reply. He then continued to tell us all about his shell collection. What a character. As Turbo was winding down the list of shells he had collected that day I spotted a turtle emerging in a wake directly in front of us. Turbo left us for dinner and Jonathan and I sat 
memorized by the turtle making its way up the wide beach awkwardly like a fish (or turtle) out of water. 'Fiona the Flatback Sea Turtle' we named her affectionately and she became our pet for the night. We sat as still as statues while Fiona fought her way across the sand slowly. She would pull herself forward a few feet and then stop, exhausted and panting. She would look around, and being only about 10ft from us we often caught her gaze. I was worried we might spook her by the sheer intensity of our staring. We didn't thankfully and as the stars started to freckle the sky Fiona dedicated herself admirably to the task of excavating her nest in the dunes behind us. In the end she had dragged herself and belly full of eggs at least 75 meters to the nesting sight. 
What a humbling experience to know that this turtle, now at least a metre long had hatched on this very beach years and years ago and somehow knew exactly how to get back here. I felt like bursting out into the chorus of Lion King's 'Circle of Life.' I didn't though. For Fiona's sake. Jonathan and I sat on the beach for a long while, checking periodically on Fiona's progress and enjoying the perfectly clear star studded night sky and cool ocean breeze. What a night!
Especially at Turquoise Bay, where it's not called 'turquoise' for nothing. Was I swimming in an aquarium? The colours, variety and number of fish mere inches from my face was outstanding. It was like the Blue Planet. I thought I had fallen asleep watching an episode and was dreaming that I was in the series. Maybe we should watch that episode again,maybe i am in it! (like that time I appeared as Sydney Bristow in Alias). Why aren't people here video tapping this spectacle all day every day? Parrot fish that look like they were cut straight out of a bright neon 90's tye dye shirt, butterfly fish, angelfish, damsel fish, groupers, wrass, triggerfish, picassa fish, blue spotted faintail ray, garden of sea cucumbers,trumpet fish, crocodilian long tom, clown fish, starfish, and, the absolute highlight...
Curiosity got the best of me and I peeked out to the beach again to see Jonathan's reaction. He was pulling on his
don't want to acknowledge it in fear that I will wake up from this dream life I am in. I followed the turtle for a while. He was so graceful. So different than on land. He floated around with the current, nibbling on tuffs of sea grass. Sometimes the current would push his little butt upwards while his mouth was still intent on the sea grass and he would be suspended in the water like a marionette. Colouful fish swam in his wake. When he eventually used his fins he glided through the water so peacefully, streamlined and chillaxed. His big dark eyes were so inquisitive. He was 'Dude' in 
After our jug was full the kangaroos started fighting over who would get to lap up the spillage and in all the confusion the herd of emus slipped in and stole their thunder. What a spectacle of survival in Australia. It's rough out here.
Although Ted's homemade maple syrup has been quite hard to find down here.. Antonio and Andreas are on a year long sabbatical pretty much mirroring our trip, only backwards! They regaled us with helpful tips and fascinating insights from their travels to India, China and Southeast Asia. We feel very lucky to have met them and sincerely hope our paths cross again.
Even against his best attempts, asking at least five separate people. This in mind, I practically fainted when he jumped out of his sandals and proceeded to run into the shallow waters of the aptly named 'Shark Bay' to chase down the sharks we saw from the shore. It all started with an innocent lunch break on the dunes. We could see multiple black sea animals with fins breaching in the waters right off the beach. There were at least 100 of the creatures. What could they be? When we couldn't take the suspense a second longer, Curious George and I went to investigate. 'They are definitely sharks' the expert (my husband) confirmed. See, Gord and Cathy, all those hours as a child watching National Geographic did pay off. Jonathan was able to recognize sharks so that we could steer clear. Or so I thought. This is precisely when he practically threw his sandals at me and started off into the shark infested waters to 'get a closer look.' Yup, what I always expected was finally confirmed. 
He was crazy. This is the same guy who wouldn't wade past his thighs when swimming with Sophie and I at Bondi Beach. At least I think its the same man. Did I make sure he put sunscreen on today? Did he eat some crazy pill from Turbo? I 'watched' (that was my job, he told me, to 'watch') as he waded out to his knees into the sharks. He was flailing his arms with excitement. 'There's one!! He's coming straight at me!' Shark Bait would yell back to me. I watched him in disbelief. What do you say to that? 'Great, honey? I'm happy for you! Sure hope that shark gets real close!' Maybe little children should cover their ears. Don't do this at home, kids. It will worry your parents. ' Can you see this?' my Shark Hunter would yell, 'I'm surrounded by sharks! One is about 5ft long!' 
But then the reassurance 'Don't worry, most are only about 3 feet! I wish I had a mask!' Yup, its official: he's nuts. Steve Irwin, ahem, I mean Jonathan, emerged unscathed ready to try again further down the beach where the sharks had moved to. 'I just want to touch one' he said to me, wading back out to the unknown. Great. Just great. At least we splurged for health insurance...
Again, our Aussie friends came to the rescue with an airport pickup. This time it was Jacqui the Fair and Josh the Noble at the Darwin airport. Oh the luxury. We met Jacqui (of Jacqui and Jacqui) back in 2006 high up in the Swiss Alps of Gimmelwald. We had a wonderful time chatting around a picnic table at 10,000 ft or so, with a 360 degree of the snow capped ranges. There, Jacqui shared the most coveted of items with us: her Vegemite. We've been friends ever since. Jacqui and Jacqui were on a much longer, inspiring tour around the world, which was pausing for a year or so for employment in the UK. Jacqui when on the Canadian portion of her round-the-world trip, then stopped in to visit us in Niagara. It was our first time on Maid of the Mist! It was Jac(squared) who are the reason behind our
consistent journalling. They wrote in their journals every day and dated them Day 1, 6, 98 etc and then could play a game where one person says a number and the other goes to that day in their journal and reads the happenings that have been recorded. It was so much fun to hear the little tidbits of adventures gone by that we, during this trip, try to follow suit. Day 68 today, in case anyone was wondering.
by lush tropical gardens that Jacqui tends to expertly. Not only has she tamed the palm trees and ferns on her property but she also grows a variety of things such as peanuts and pineapples! A pineapple just from the top of another pineapple! How cool!
think I have ever seen colours as deep and dramatic as they are way up here. They were arranged just for us (or so our hosts convinced us). We strolled along the beach at sunset and dared to dip our toes into the ocean. Swimming is a no-no up here, even though that's pretty much all I want to do. It is box jellyfish season, and a sting from those little buggers is fatal, and rivers and ponds are out because of the opportunistic crocs. This is probably where the name Darwin came from. The people who first lived up here most likely discovered many of these tidbits in a not-so-pleasant way. Survival of the Smartest. 
That's just my opinion. Today there are pools, fans and AC. Genius inventions. Anyways, when we dipped our toes into the ocean the water was hot. Literally as warm as a nice bath! This is the ocean people! It is most certainly a different world up here.
up the sky and leave us teasing Mother nature for more. 'Is that all you got? Come on, you can do better than that.'
rest of Australia. There was a definite Asian influence at the market and the food was all the better because of it. Addicted to the fruit our hosts had introduced us to, I was in search of a mango. 'Stick it up y'er nose' the large man sitting behind the box of ginnormous yellow mangoes said to me. ' I looked at him in bewilderment. Clearly this guy had spent too many hours in the sun picking these mangoes. I was about to tell him so when Jacqui came to the rescue, chose a mango and put it to her nose to smell if it was sweet and ripe. Ok, so I'm new here. I don't know if it's a second nature up here, but the mango she picked was 
by far the best mango I have ever had. And believe me, I have spent every day since then tasting mangoes looking for the next 'one.' I am beginning to think I will have to settle with the sweet sweet memory of my beloved 'Darwin Mango.'
were tall and skinny, like grave stones while the Cathedral Termite Mounds had a more flowing, creative looking shape. Pretty impressive little termites! From there we stopped, and lingered at Florence Falls. This is a croc-free plunge pool at the base of 2 waterfalls, full of fish and safe for swimming. It was so refreshing I didn't want to get out. Swimming in crystal clear water under stunning waterfalls is something that I enjoy doing, it turns out. Jonathan chose the 'exfoliation package' allowing little and bigger fish to nibble at his toes. And leg hair. And legs.
picked up at the airport and their unfailing thoughtfulness from fresh towels to borrowing their car, driving us around, giving us loads of travel info and sending us out into the day with home baked apple slice. (Like apple crumble, only baked into perfectly packable bars). We are so lucky to have met Jacqui and Jacqui in Europe and now feel even luckier to have met Josh as well. Next week we will be meeting up with 'little' Jac ( the other half of the dynamic duo) down in Perth! We are really looking forward to catching up with her.
every Aussie pantry we have wandered into and have even encountered it tucked into easily accessible pockets in the traveling Aussie's backpack in case of emergency. It is, in other words, the Australian spread. What type of spread, you ask? It is concentrated yeast extract from yeast grown on barley. That might be why Kristen says it tastes a bit like Guinness. Love it (j) or loathe it (k), its early history is at least somewhat interesting and a bit of joke. Let's see if you get.
subtlety, named his product Parwill. Do you get it? If Ma might, Pa will: Marmite, Parwill. Don't feel bad if you didn't get it: most people didn't. This led to the decision to hold a nationwide naming contest. As you probably already suspected, it was here that the name Vegemite was submitted and it has stuck ever since. Now there is something you can all file away in your very own Vault of Useless Facts.
flight but sprang to life at 8am when our plane descended into the beautiful Sydney morning and circled the Sydney Opera House. 'OMG! We are actually in Australia!! P.Sherman 45 Wallabe Way, Sydney Australia!' (sorry, I had to). We were giddy with excitement. Our adrenaline, and unbeknownst to us at the time, the most amazing introduction to Australia kept us high (and wide awake) for almost 24 hours straight.
under the weight of your pregnant backpack searching for a cheap and (ultimately non-existent) way into the city that you nothing about to an overpriced hostel which probably is infested with bed bugs. Oh yes, we are the lucky ones. Our hosts picked us up at the gate, deposited our bags in the trunk and took us for a tour around a few Sydney neighbourhoods on our way to a delicious Sunday morning Moroccan brunch. The food and atmosphere were amazing, but it was the company that made the event. Turns out four years is a lot to catch up on. From brunch we made our way to Manly, the neighbourhood and associated beach where Dave and Bron live. They have an amazing vacation-like flat a few hundred feet from the Sydney Harbour. Their view is incredible. People come from their far away suburbs just to swim off the rocks in the clear blue waters of Bron an Dave's
front yard. The paved water-front path around the Harbour passes in front of their patio, so after a few minutes rest we set out to see the sights. Although we didn't see them, Blue Penguins have established a colony on the Harbour beach a short ways down the path. We continue our stroll down the promenade, which is full of Sunday sun-seeking Sydney-ers. No one is wearing much more than their bathing suit and everyone is gorgeous, aside from a few gawking tourists (although the gawking is completely understandable). There is a surfing competition at Manly Beach and so the scene unfolds like the quintessential image of Australia. The beach is packed with unbelievably tanned people, the water has just as many people who have exchanged their towels for surf boards, the promenade is stuffed with Baywatch and friends jogging along in their bathing attire, their muscles glistening in the hot sun, and of course, us tourists wishing they were any one of the above. We walk along the path up around the beach to get the big picture. What a sight! We continue along past less occupied coastline, down to another busy beach and then up to a lookout over Manly, the jagged cliffs and the beaches along the distant coast that squeeze their way in between the rocky headlands. Gorgeous.
helped scrap it off my shirt before it attahed itself to my actual skin. Now, in my defense, I would like to say that all literature I have read about Australia has a very strong emphasis on all the bugs, spiders, snakes, jellyfish, sharks etc. that can kill you. This, and a touch of my overactive imagination have transformed my encounter with 'the Tick' into a much more dramatic escapade then it need be. The tourist's fear of everything in Australia surely becomes quite tiring to the people who actually live here. Most people can happily live their lives without ever seeing most of the poisonous critters that are said to inhabit the land. Especially in cosmopolitan Sydney. Either way, I am happy that 'the Tick' was my only bug 
encounter and even more happy that I was with Bron who could have easily removed the little bugger, if it had indeed lodged it's head into my skin. This didn't stop me from completing the most thorough of body scans everyday for the next week, however.
almost don't want to tell you and save you the insane amount of jealousy. But, I will, of course. So. Dave and Bron have a friend through church that has a 40-foot sailing yacht that she very generously shares with a group of interested yachters. Luckily for us, Dave and Bron are experienced sailors and have arranged for us to meet the boat as it was coming home from a weekend out in open water. AND: Take us for a sunset/dinner sail around the Sydney Harbour!!! Can you believe it? We almost couldn't. What an amazing experience! 'Rampage', our yacht-du-jour was born in 1973 and, in her day, she was a speedy 'little' thing winning the Sydney-Hobart race in the mid-seventies. This is a big deal. With the fixings
of a delicious picnic dinner we set off into the deep blue waters of the Sydney Harbour. Our very capable Captain Dave was patient with our nautical bumbling and we sailed down towards the City, Opera House and the Harbour Bridge with the late sun glistening on the water and bathing the City in gold. It was such a fantastic evening, I kept pinching myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming the whole thing up. We (we?) devoured our first Tim Tams (signature Aussie cookie comprised of 2 chocolate buiscuits stuck together with chocolate cream. The whole cookie is then covered in chocolate. Yum!) while the sun set. The blood red, deep orange, magnificent blue of the evening sky, along with our Tim Tams made for the perfect ending of the perfect day. Or so we thought. We sailed back to the dock in fading light. By the time us ladies were dropped off at the wharf and the men had moored and rowed to shore, night had fallen. Turns out this is the perfect time for phospohrescne! I had only seen phosphorescence on TV, and never 
expected to see it in real life. We gathered stones and sticks and handfuls of sand and took turns throwing the objects into the ocean to watch the water's neon blue reaction. We giggled like school kids the whole time. It reminded me of the glow worms in NZ. How can natural make such unnatural colours? Spectacular. If this weren't a fantastic enough way to end the day, we then spotted big white pelicans on the beach and string rays in the shallow water!
'refreshing' but 100% worth it! 'We are swimming in Australia!' Jonathan was less enthusiastic. Sharks and such.