Morning... Just awake... only barely...
Knock knock... who's there?...
BANG... CRASH... dust and bright light... a booming voice... "You have been tagged by your Pal!"
Mortification... So it was true after all... I try to turn around wanting to run for my life... Petrified... can't move... Astonishment... fear... confused... helpless... futility... resignation... "What do want me to do?"
Him: Answer a few questions.
Me: First tell me why this is happening!
Him: Pal has tagged you with the book-bug.
Me: Pal! He gets many ideas!
Him: Do you like to read?
Me: I love to read.
Him: What do you read?
Me: I read everything from comics to magazines and short stories to full novels. True stories, fiction, fantasy and accounts.
Him: What languages do you read in?
Me: I prefer English, although I have read a little in Hindi too.
Him: What are you currently reading?
Me: Inca Gold by Clive Cussler.
Him: How many books do you own?
Me: Too many. Running out of space to shelve them.
Him: Where do you buy books?
Me: No single place. I have bought at Crossword, I buy here in Melbourne from a second hand store, from Munna-Bhai in Mumbai...
Him: How do you choose a book to buy?
Me: I look for the reviews most of the times and my friends point me on to a book they have found to be good. Sometimes I just read blurbs at a bookstore and pick one up by intuition.
Him: What is your most recent buy?
Me: A compendium of three books in one hardback by Archer.
Him: What do you pplan to read next after Inca Gold?
Me: The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason. I have borrowed it from the St Kilda public library.
Him: Is that a good library?
Me: It is paradise to any book lover. A fantastic collection of books and CDs and DVDs and audio books too. And guess what, it is all free for any resident of this place.
Him: That is impressive, enough cause for envy amongst your friends.
Me: Yes, make sure you tell Pal.
Him: Do you gift books?
Me: If the person I am gifting likes to read or even would like to start reading, I would choose a book straight away.
Him: What was the last book you gifted?
Me: A set of two leatherbound classics to my best friend at her engagement.
Him: Any book that left a lasting impression on you?
Me: Many in fact. One specifically would be Acts of Faith by Erich Segal.
Him: Is there a book that you could not finish?
Me: A few. One comes to mind immediately: Five Patients by Michael Crichton. I am not made for such types of narrative I guess.
Him: Name a few books you would recommend to a fellow reader.
Me: The Class by Erich Segal
Malgudi Days/Swami and Friends both by R. K. Narayan
Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach
The Mill on the Floss (un-abridged) by George Eliot
The Black Arrow by Robert Lewis Stevenson
The Client by John Grisham
The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller
...and many more
Him: Which do you think is the best movie made out of a book?
Me: This is tough to answer. There are many to begin with. And there are different themes. I would leave this to the opinion of the individual. I will say only that I believe the charm of a book can never be truly captured on screen. Imagination that brings a book you read to life is your own while a movie is the imagination and interpretation of another, however good it may be.
Him: You have done well so far with all the questions. I have no choice but to leave you in peace now.
Me: In fact, come to think of it, I enjoyed the interrogation. Only you could have un-petrified me! Now get lost will you!
More light... dust... a chill blast of air... suction... mist... a warp... and suddenly quiet... I can move... I go to the kitchen for a glass of water... and to make some breakfast... Come to think of it, Pal, good on you... you have set me thinking. :-)
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Locked Out!
Every once in a while we do something daft and make a fool of ourselves. When it happens, we dont fell good at all about being in a spot, but later on the story brings a smile on your face and giggles on others'. :-)
Why am I saying all this? I did something daft for a change. I certainly did not plan it but it happened something like this. The apartment that I live in has an automatic spring lock that locks the door when shut. You need to then have the key to open it from the outside.
Suffice it to say that keen on going to play a few games of table tennis, I picked up my paddle and rushed out of my apartment forgetting to take the keys. I had a good hour playing TT and when it ended, I couldn't find the keys to my apartment on me! Anyone who would have seen me at that moment of discovery would have seen a Merry Melodies donkey with a balloon over its head saying "DUNCE"! That is exactly how I felt anyway.
I tried to go down to the reception hoping to find the spare key, but to my chagrin, the staff had all left. The one member of the staff who lives in one of the apartments here happened not to find her spare keys and I was out there wet with sweat on a chilly winter evening and the temperature was falling below 10 degrees. Brrrr....
Necessity is the mother of invention they say; I say desperation is the gateway to all sorts of ideas. I started trying to find out a way of entering my apartment without a key. My apartment is on the first floor and I cannot hope to climb up a sheer wall on the roadside without any number of misfortunes befalling me (no pun intended) so I had to smother that idea even as it had begun to form. Then I spotted my bedroom window. This might be more plausible. First I had to remove the netting. This I managed to do without much ado after a few minutes of pulling, pushing and sliding until it eventually came off in my hands. That accomplished (without anyone spotting me and mistakenly calling the police) I had to figure out a way to undo the spring latch on the inside of the glass window to slide it open. I needed something thin and long that I could insert through the small gap between the jamb and the latch. I borrowed a pen-knife from my manager's home and he came out to help me in my efforts. We tried hard but we were not able to reach the latch with the small pen-knife and we could not find any other implement to help our cause. I had to give up after half an hour of trying and all of a sudden I started feeling the cold again.
My manager was good enough to ask me to sleep at his house for the night and I had no other option anyway so I accepted. My major dis-satisfaction now was I could not get to the nice soft chappathis and sprouted moong masala that I had cooked for dinner before going out to play. To add to the misery, I had invited another colleague to dinner and now I had to tell him that he would have to find dinner someplace else. Talk about adding insult to injury!
I sat in my manager's contemplating my not-so-comfortable position, with Manorama making wise-cracks in Thillana Mohanambal on the telly, when thanks to Dame Luck, the resident staff called up to say that she had managed to find the spare key to my apartment. How happy I felt, I cannot express in words.
So the story ended in a "happy ever after" note with me able to go have a nice shower and dig into my dinner and tuck myself cozily into bed.
Hope you dont ever forget your keys and wish you a nice weekend. Ciao! :-)
Why am I saying all this? I did something daft for a change. I certainly did not plan it but it happened something like this. The apartment that I live in has an automatic spring lock that locks the door when shut. You need to then have the key to open it from the outside.
Suffice it to say that keen on going to play a few games of table tennis, I picked up my paddle and rushed out of my apartment forgetting to take the keys. I had a good hour playing TT and when it ended, I couldn't find the keys to my apartment on me! Anyone who would have seen me at that moment of discovery would have seen a Merry Melodies donkey with a balloon over its head saying "DUNCE"! That is exactly how I felt anyway.
I tried to go down to the reception hoping to find the spare key, but to my chagrin, the staff had all left. The one member of the staff who lives in one of the apartments here happened not to find her spare keys and I was out there wet with sweat on a chilly winter evening and the temperature was falling below 10 degrees. Brrrr....
Necessity is the mother of invention they say; I say desperation is the gateway to all sorts of ideas. I started trying to find out a way of entering my apartment without a key. My apartment is on the first floor and I cannot hope to climb up a sheer wall on the roadside without any number of misfortunes befalling me (no pun intended) so I had to smother that idea even as it had begun to form. Then I spotted my bedroom window. This might be more plausible. First I had to remove the netting. This I managed to do without much ado after a few minutes of pulling, pushing and sliding until it eventually came off in my hands. That accomplished (without anyone spotting me and mistakenly calling the police) I had to figure out a way to undo the spring latch on the inside of the glass window to slide it open. I needed something thin and long that I could insert through the small gap between the jamb and the latch. I borrowed a pen-knife from my manager's home and he came out to help me in my efforts. We tried hard but we were not able to reach the latch with the small pen-knife and we could not find any other implement to help our cause. I had to give up after half an hour of trying and all of a sudden I started feeling the cold again.
My manager was good enough to ask me to sleep at his house for the night and I had no other option anyway so I accepted. My major dis-satisfaction now was I could not get to the nice soft chappathis and sprouted moong masala that I had cooked for dinner before going out to play. To add to the misery, I had invited another colleague to dinner and now I had to tell him that he would have to find dinner someplace else. Talk about adding insult to injury!
I sat in my manager's contemplating my not-so-comfortable position, with Manorama making wise-cracks in Thillana Mohanambal on the telly, when thanks to Dame Luck, the resident staff called up to say that she had managed to find the spare key to my apartment. How happy I felt, I cannot express in words.
So the story ended in a "happy ever after" note with me able to go have a nice shower and dig into my dinner and tuck myself cozily into bed.
Hope you dont ever forget your keys and wish you a nice weekend. Ciao! :-)
Monday, May 23, 2005
Ballarat & Blood on the Southern Cross
Sunday, 22 May 2005
Back home and resting
Back home and resting
Hello all,
I have a long story to tell, so I shall get to it right away. I took Friday off from work and decided to go travelling. It had been more than a month since my trip the Grampians and I was getting quite restless. Work had kept me on a tight leash and I had to break free and chill out. God bless my manager for he let me and a friend of mine off on a Friday. I set about planning a trip for a couple of days such that we would be back late on Saturday evening.
Friday morning arrived, beautifully sunny with a clear sky dotted with just enough white fluff to shield the glaring sun when driving and Pravansu and I set off on our journey. Fuel tank filled and tyre pressure checked and corrected, we were all set to drive to Ballarat, our first destination.
The drive would take us an hour and twenty minutes. With Kishore Kumar singing out of a CD, the mood was just right. The holiday bug started buzzing around our ears. Ballarat is one of the oldest towns in Victoria. The town came into existence after a large amount of Gold was found to be present in and around the place. In 1850, Ballarat started as a miner’s settlement over Sovereign Hill and grew rapidly in size as word of the gold spread and people from far and wide came rushing to make their fortunes in Ballarat Gold.
We reached Ballarat in good time and made our way to the information centre where a friendly member of the staff helped us get reservations at a nice twin share motel for the night and also helped us with directions to the attractions in town. Our first visit was to the newly built Aboriginal Arts Centre. It is a small but dainty collection of art and artefacts made by the aboriginal peoples of the area. The Centre showcases the life and history of the aborigine people and has a lot of lovely didgeridoos, boomerangs and paintings.
The main attraction of Ballarat however is Sovereign Hill itself. The government has preserved the whole town in its 1850s splendour. Complete with people in 1850 costumes and shops and homes operating the way they used to in the ‘50s, Sovereign Hill is a unique experience that brings you face to face with living history.
I have a long story to tell, so I shall get to it right away. I took Friday off from work and decided to go travelling. It had been more than a month since my trip the Grampians and I was getting quite restless. Work had kept me on a tight leash and I had to break free and chill out. God bless my manager for he let me and a friend of mine off on a Friday. I set about planning a trip for a couple of days such that we would be back late on Saturday evening.
Friday morning arrived, beautifully sunny with a clear sky dotted with just enough white fluff to shield the glaring sun when driving and Pravansu and I set off on our journey. Fuel tank filled and tyre pressure checked and corrected, we were all set to drive to Ballarat, our first destination.
The drive would take us an hour and twenty minutes. With Kishore Kumar singing out of a CD, the mood was just right. The holiday bug started buzzing around our ears. Ballarat is one of the oldest towns in Victoria. The town came into existence after a large amount of Gold was found to be present in and around the place. In 1850, Ballarat started as a miner’s settlement over Sovereign Hill and grew rapidly in size as word of the gold spread and people from far and wide came rushing to make their fortunes in Ballarat Gold.
We reached Ballarat in good time and made our way to the information centre where a friendly member of the staff helped us get reservations at a nice twin share motel for the night and also helped us with directions to the attractions in town. Our first visit was to the newly built Aboriginal Arts Centre. It is a small but dainty collection of art and artefacts made by the aboriginal peoples of the area. The Centre showcases the life and history of the aborigine people and has a lot of lovely didgeridoos, boomerangs and paintings.
The main attraction of Ballarat however is Sovereign Hill itself. The government has preserved the whole town in its 1850s splendour. Complete with people in 1850 costumes and shops and homes operating the way they used to in the ‘50s, Sovereign Hill is a unique experience that brings you face to face with living history.
A typical day on Sovereign Hill
The Red Hill Mining Company operated the largest mine on Sovereign Hill. I went down the real mine shaft and the tunnels on a tour and the darkness and the damp and dusty heavily laden air was quite spooky. Imagine tunnels several hundred feet deep into the ground where in some places you can only walk single file and bent double. In these depths and treacherous conditions worked the miners of a bygone era churning out 8-10 hour shifts with a single break of twenty minutes! It is no surprise that the average life expectancy of those miners, because of the unhealthy conditions that they worked in without any protection to speak of, was less than 60 years. After going deep into the tunnels, having learnt from the guide all about how the miners used to dig for gold first with just sledge-hammers and a tap and later using pneumatic drills, how water from the lower depths was pumped up continuously to keep from drowning the miners and how the quartz containing the gold veins were transported to the top manually by young boys aged 11 to 15 on carts (laden with half a ton of the rock), we rode through the dark tunnels on a track buggy into blinding sunlight. What a fantastic experience indeed!
Strolling thought the town we bumped into a file of red-coats marching about town making sure all was in order. The executioner got hold of me for getting in the way and I almost got his broadsword in my middle. Luckily for me, before he could strike, the governor’s carriage came by on Main Street and his attention was drawn for a moment and I managed to slip free to safety. That was a close shave indeed and I ran on till I reached the other part of town where I found musketeers practising firing their long muskets. I certainly did not want to get into the way and turned off towards the sweet aroma that was coming out of the building on my left. It was the confectioner‘s. A large sign outside read “Brown’s Confectionery Factory”. I walked in and was welcomed by a jolly person (his sweet s were as sweet as him, he claimed). I saw him make a mess of the place and himself as he made his famous raspberry drops. I tried one out and it tasted wonderful , just like he had claimed. I purchased a bottle of raspberry drops and bade the sweet maker goodbye.
Down the far end of Main Street I came upon the Wheel Wright. He was glad to show me how he wrought wheels and the spokes and the cogs from timber using machinery that ran on steam. The wheel wright makes the wheels for the carts and carriages of Sovereign Hill apart from shipping some to his customers abroad.
Near the mine, the smelter showed me how the nuggets were smelted and purified from the mercury in a retort and then poured into casts to make ingots each worth $50,000! Liquid Gold at 1200 degrees Centigrade is a sight to behold. The dazzle and shine will take your breath away and you cannot help but feel you want to possess it. I can understand now how Midas would have felt when he had the power to make gold out of anything by mere touch.
For recreation miners used to bowl at a nine-pin wooden alley.The alley is totally different from what we see today. It takes two people to play, for one rolls the heavy ball with both hands down a channel towards the skittles at the far end and the other replaces the fallen skittles after a throw and sends back the ball on another channel. After a few throws my arm started feeling sore and I gave it up.
I needed a bit of rest and I stopped by the stream that was flowing down Red Hill Gully. There were many busy panning for gold dust in the stream and I tried my luck as well. My luck aint anything to speak of, so I got no gold. The sun was slowly dipping down the horizon and what a day it had been for me. I shall not forget this day for a long time to come. What a life these people led in the 1850s! Hats off to their ingenious methods and discoveries.
The day was over but there was more to see. When fully dark Sovereign Hill turns into a theatre set, the largest I have seen, spread all over its 25 hectares. A multi-million dollar sound and light show called “Blood on the Southern Cross” takes you through the life and the fight of the miners against the government for their rights. The bitter struggle between the government and the common miner folk and the bloody battle that ensued are depicted in spectacular fashion under a starry sky. The miners group against the government under the banner of the blue Southern Cross. The action unfolds all around you and you are caught in the middle of a story more than a century before your time. It goes on for about 80 minutes as you are taken through different parts of the town on foot and aboard a buggy train. The climax where buildings a razed in a fire and shots are fired all around you spilling blood on the Southern Cross blew my breath away.
This day has been an exhilarating experience for me and one that will remain fresh in my memory for a very long time to come. It has been my pleasure to have shared my experiences with you and I hope you too can one day come to Ballarat and live the experience. Until my next blog from down under, I wish you all peace and happiness.
Strolling thought the town we bumped into a file of red-coats marching about town making sure all was in order. The executioner got hold of me for getting in the way and I almost got his broadsword in my middle. Luckily for me, before he could strike, the governor’s carriage came by on Main Street and his attention was drawn for a moment and I managed to slip free to safety. That was a close shave indeed and I ran on till I reached the other part of town where I found musketeers practising firing their long muskets. I certainly did not want to get into the way and turned off towards the sweet aroma that was coming out of the building on my left. It was the confectioner‘s. A large sign outside read “Brown’s Confectionery Factory”. I walked in and was welcomed by a jolly person (his sweet s were as sweet as him, he claimed). I saw him make a mess of the place and himself as he made his famous raspberry drops. I tried one out and it tasted wonderful , just like he had claimed. I purchased a bottle of raspberry drops and bade the sweet maker goodbye.
Down the far end of Main Street I came upon the Wheel Wright. He was glad to show me how he wrought wheels and the spokes and the cogs from timber using machinery that ran on steam. The wheel wright makes the wheels for the carts and carriages of Sovereign Hill apart from shipping some to his customers abroad.
Near the mine, the smelter showed me how the nuggets were smelted and purified from the mercury in a retort and then poured into casts to make ingots each worth $50,000! Liquid Gold at 1200 degrees Centigrade is a sight to behold. The dazzle and shine will take your breath away and you cannot help but feel you want to possess it. I can understand now how Midas would have felt when he had the power to make gold out of anything by mere touch.
For recreation miners used to bowl at a nine-pin wooden alley.The alley is totally different from what we see today. It takes two people to play, for one rolls the heavy ball with both hands down a channel towards the skittles at the far end and the other replaces the fallen skittles after a throw and sends back the ball on another channel. After a few throws my arm started feeling sore and I gave it up.
I needed a bit of rest and I stopped by the stream that was flowing down Red Hill Gully. There were many busy panning for gold dust in the stream and I tried my luck as well. My luck aint anything to speak of, so I got no gold. The sun was slowly dipping down the horizon and what a day it had been for me. I shall not forget this day for a long time to come. What a life these people led in the 1850s! Hats off to their ingenious methods and discoveries.
The day was over but there was more to see. When fully dark Sovereign Hill turns into a theatre set, the largest I have seen, spread all over its 25 hectares. A multi-million dollar sound and light show called “Blood on the Southern Cross” takes you through the life and the fight of the miners against the government for their rights. The bitter struggle between the government and the common miner folk and the bloody battle that ensued are depicted in spectacular fashion under a starry sky. The miners group against the government under the banner of the blue Southern Cross. The action unfolds all around you and you are caught in the middle of a story more than a century before your time. It goes on for about 80 minutes as you are taken through different parts of the town on foot and aboard a buggy train. The climax where buildings a razed in a fire and shots are fired all around you spilling blood on the Southern Cross blew my breath away.
This day has been an exhilarating experience for me and one that will remain fresh in my memory for a very long time to come. It has been my pleasure to have shared my experiences with you and I hope you too can one day come to Ballarat and live the experience. Until my next blog from down under, I wish you all peace and happiness.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Of Vistas and Kangaroos - The Grampians
April 17, 2005
Warrawee Cottage, Halls Gap, The Grampians
Warrawee Cottage, Halls Gap, The Grampians
Oooooh! It is cold. Boy, am I glad to be holding this steaming cup of tea. It is just dawn outside and it looks like a lovely day from my window-side seat. Here I am, comfortably nestled in a cushioned armchair sipping good tea and thinking about the nice time we had yesterday and wondering what the day holds in store for us today.
There are six of us. With two Ford Falcons, both boots full of stuff and a cheer in our hearts we had set off from our apartments in St. Kilda, Melbourne last morning. That was Saturday, the sixteenth of April 2005. After taking a couple of wrong turns and finally managing to get back on track we followed the Western Freeway to Ballarat, the gold-mining town of yesteryear and on past it, through Ararat and to Halls Gap.
Halls Gap is a small township sitting on the entrance to the Grampians. The Grampians is a dense natural forest area with a lot of mountains and wildlife. Halls Gap sits in a small Gap between Mountains forming a gateway to the spectacular scenery of the Grampians. I wouldn’t call it even a township, for it is just a congregation of a few buildings. There is the Visitor’s Information Centre, a grocery cum utility shop, a bottle shop and a police station. A Petrol station and a cricket oval provide a finishing touch to the town. There is a nice park with a few swings and slides for kids and serves as an ideal spot for a picnic lunch.
At the visitor’s centre we were helped by a nice lady. We picked up enough local knowledge and decide where we wanted to go. We collected maps with driving directions. Our first and most pressing need was however to find suitable accommodation for the night for the six of us. We had not bothered to book ahead, knowing this time of the year is not tourist season yet. We came expecting a few rooms at a motel or a Bed and Breakfast establishment and I am understating our surprise and joy in saying that we were overwhelmed when the kind lady at the visitor’s centre asked us if we wished to rent a lovely cottage all for ourselves. The price was good and we jumped at the chance.
So here we came to Warrawee, an orange painted wooden cottage with a first floor a long drive and garden. A neat porch leading to the front door and a barbecue grill by the back. Inside, the cottage is an epitome of homeliness and comfort. A tastefully set up living room and fully equipped kitchen, nice bath and toilet facilities and service area, two Queen Bedrooms and a third bedroom with single cots, make up the house. A nice balcony in the first floor looking out in the elevation is a nice touch of class.
So here we set down our stuff and set out to explore some of the attractions of the Grampians.
The Boroka Lookout and the Ried Lookout are very nice spots on the edges of the cliffs overlooking spectacular scenery. The lovely blue of the distant lakes and the rising mountains with vales in-between lend a refreshing feeling of goodness and beauty. The one snapshot that would stay in my memory for a while is the soft blue of Lake Wartook lying snugly between two arms of the Grampian Ranges. I might have a picture here of it to share with you.
Lake Wartook from Boroka Lookout
Our hearts light and fluttering, having taking in these spectacular sights, we carried on towards the Mac Kenzie Falls. The Mac Kenzie Falls is reputed to be Australia’s highest waterfall, though in reality it is not too high; I would put it at something between 60 and 70 metres tall. There is a narrow and quite treacherous track leading to the bottom of the falls where the water collects in a wide pool in dark rock. The track starts of rugged and rocky and slowly the gradient increases until it becomes very steep and very narrow. To make things even more tricky, the lower you descend, the more wet and slippery the rock underfoot becomes, not to mention the thick roots of the cliff hanging flora trying to trip you every step of the way. The brave and careful who overcome these hazards are treated to a spectacle like none other. The vista opens up a gorgeous and raucous waterfall that gets smothered into a placid pool set amidst a rocky cul-de-sac. I fell in love with this idyllic setting and will cherish this visit for a long long time.
MacKenzie Falls
On our way back (after pulling ourselves up the same way we went down, becoming quite weary in the process I might add) we stopped by at the small kiosk a the head of the track. The jolly kiosk-tender supplied us with tea, coffee, ice-creams and biscuits at a reasonable cost. I even picked up a nice small (real) boomerang from his shop window. We had had a great time so far in our trip, but there was one small detail missing. It feels quite awkward to concede the point but the fact remained that I had not seen a single kangaroo in Australia yet in my two months of stay here! I lamented my tale of woe in the passing to the kiosk-tender and voila, I hit pay dirt almost immediately! The garrulous shop-keeper told me that I was standing in the middle of Kangaroo land. He showed us a spot on our way back home that he reckoned would be the best place to see a really large number of kangaroos. This spot turned out to be the Cricket Oval in Halls gap! It was getting on dusk and the air was cool, perfect for the kangaroos to come out for a graze and what better grazing ground than a lush green cricket oval!
I saw a few dozen Kangaroos in the Oval. We stopped our cars and let all our travel fatigue ebb away strolling in the midst of these mild-mannered and quiet marsupials. This was probably the best finish to the day I could have hoped for. After a while (several photos and hopping matches later), we began to feel the chill of the night and headed away to Warrawee Cottage. A couple of loaves of bread, some butter, jam and hot cups of milk later, I tucked myself into the cozy bed and let my eyelids droop off leaving my mind wandering the green fields with the kangaroos of Halls Gap.
The sun is up now and I am eagerly looking forward to today’s adventures in the hypnotic Grampians.
Until my next blog, au revoir!
There are six of us. With two Ford Falcons, both boots full of stuff and a cheer in our hearts we had set off from our apartments in St. Kilda, Melbourne last morning. That was Saturday, the sixteenth of April 2005. After taking a couple of wrong turns and finally managing to get back on track we followed the Western Freeway to Ballarat, the gold-mining town of yesteryear and on past it, through Ararat and to Halls Gap.
Halls Gap is a small township sitting on the entrance to the Grampians. The Grampians is a dense natural forest area with a lot of mountains and wildlife. Halls Gap sits in a small Gap between Mountains forming a gateway to the spectacular scenery of the Grampians. I wouldn’t call it even a township, for it is just a congregation of a few buildings. There is the Visitor’s Information Centre, a grocery cum utility shop, a bottle shop and a police station. A Petrol station and a cricket oval provide a finishing touch to the town. There is a nice park with a few swings and slides for kids and serves as an ideal spot for a picnic lunch.
At the visitor’s centre we were helped by a nice lady. We picked up enough local knowledge and decide where we wanted to go. We collected maps with driving directions. Our first and most pressing need was however to find suitable accommodation for the night for the six of us. We had not bothered to book ahead, knowing this time of the year is not tourist season yet. We came expecting a few rooms at a motel or a Bed and Breakfast establishment and I am understating our surprise and joy in saying that we were overwhelmed when the kind lady at the visitor’s centre asked us if we wished to rent a lovely cottage all for ourselves. The price was good and we jumped at the chance.
So here we came to Warrawee, an orange painted wooden cottage with a first floor a long drive and garden. A neat porch leading to the front door and a barbecue grill by the back. Inside, the cottage is an epitome of homeliness and comfort. A tastefully set up living room and fully equipped kitchen, nice bath and toilet facilities and service area, two Queen Bedrooms and a third bedroom with single cots, make up the house. A nice balcony in the first floor looking out in the elevation is a nice touch of class.
So here we set down our stuff and set out to explore some of the attractions of the Grampians.
The Boroka Lookout and the Ried Lookout are very nice spots on the edges of the cliffs overlooking spectacular scenery. The lovely blue of the distant lakes and the rising mountains with vales in-between lend a refreshing feeling of goodness and beauty. The one snapshot that would stay in my memory for a while is the soft blue of Lake Wartook lying snugly between two arms of the Grampian Ranges. I might have a picture here of it to share with you.
Lake Wartook from Boroka Lookout
Our hearts light and fluttering, having taking in these spectacular sights, we carried on towards the Mac Kenzie Falls. The Mac Kenzie Falls is reputed to be Australia’s highest waterfall, though in reality it is not too high; I would put it at something between 60 and 70 metres tall. There is a narrow and quite treacherous track leading to the bottom of the falls where the water collects in a wide pool in dark rock. The track starts of rugged and rocky and slowly the gradient increases until it becomes very steep and very narrow. To make things even more tricky, the lower you descend, the more wet and slippery the rock underfoot becomes, not to mention the thick roots of the cliff hanging flora trying to trip you every step of the way. The brave and careful who overcome these hazards are treated to a spectacle like none other. The vista opens up a gorgeous and raucous waterfall that gets smothered into a placid pool set amidst a rocky cul-de-sac. I fell in love with this idyllic setting and will cherish this visit for a long long time.
MacKenzie Falls
On our way back (after pulling ourselves up the same way we went down, becoming quite weary in the process I might add) we stopped by at the small kiosk a the head of the track. The jolly kiosk-tender supplied us with tea, coffee, ice-creams and biscuits at a reasonable cost. I even picked up a nice small (real) boomerang from his shop window. We had had a great time so far in our trip, but there was one small detail missing. It feels quite awkward to concede the point but the fact remained that I had not seen a single kangaroo in Australia yet in my two months of stay here! I lamented my tale of woe in the passing to the kiosk-tender and voila, I hit pay dirt almost immediately! The garrulous shop-keeper told me that I was standing in the middle of Kangaroo land. He showed us a spot on our way back home that he reckoned would be the best place to see a really large number of kangaroos. This spot turned out to be the Cricket Oval in Halls gap! It was getting on dusk and the air was cool, perfect for the kangaroos to come out for a graze and what better grazing ground than a lush green cricket oval!
I saw a few dozen Kangaroos in the Oval. We stopped our cars and let all our travel fatigue ebb away strolling in the midst of these mild-mannered and quiet marsupials. This was probably the best finish to the day I could have hoped for. After a while (several photos and hopping matches later), we began to feel the chill of the night and headed away to Warrawee Cottage. A couple of loaves of bread, some butter, jam and hot cups of milk later, I tucked myself into the cozy bed and let my eyelids droop off leaving my mind wandering the green fields with the kangaroos of Halls Gap.
The sun is up now and I am eagerly looking forward to today’s adventures in the hypnotic Grampians.
Until my next blog, au revoir!
Friday, April 22, 2005
ANZAC Day
Helloooo!!!
Alright, Friday evening and am I glad the weekend is nigh! And it is a long weekend too. Monday, the 25th of April is a holiday in Australia and New Zealand.
The 25th of April is commemorated as ANZAC Day. ANZAC is the acronym for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps and this day has its roots buried deep in history from long ago.
Anzac Day commemorates New Zealanders and Australians killed in war and to honour returned servicemen and women at Gallipoli during the First World War. The ceremony itself has been continually adapted to the times, but has also steadily acquired extra layers of symbolism and meaning.
War memorial window, St Andrew's Church, Cambridge.
The Gallipoli campaign, in which New Zealand made its first major effort during the First World War, had its origins in the stalemate which had developed on the Western Front by the end of 1914. Following the initial free-flowing operations, the opposing sides found themselves facing each other along a line of trenches which stretched from Switzerland to the Belgian coast. The power of the defence having already made its impact felt, statesmen in both camps were at a loss as to how to proceed. In these circumstances the need for an alternative approach was patent.
On the Allied side the search for an alternative was encouraged by the opportunities presented by superior seapower. With the German High Seas Fleet contained in the North Sea, the possibility of launching amphibious attacks on the enemy was particularly evident to the British First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill. Impatient to use British naval resources, he advanced a series of proposals, among them an assault on the Dardanelles-the nearly fifty-kilometre-long strait separating the Aegean Sea from the Sea of Marmara, which at its narrowest point, the Narrows, was less than two kilometres wide. The object would be to pass a force into the Sea of Marmara and threaten the capital of Germany's ally the Ottoman Empire.
At the War Council in London, Churchill urged an attack from the sea on Gallipoli at its first meeting on 25 November 1914. This was rejected as such an operation would be too risky but the issue was soon brought back to the foreground by developments in the war. With the Turks advancing northwards in the Caucasus, Russia appealed for action to relieve the pressure. The War Council approved the proposal on 15 January 1915.
The landings were originally scheduled to take place on 23 April, but weather conditions led to a delay of two days. Even if all had gone to plan on the 25th, the force would have struggled to secure its objectives, especially within the time allotted. But the plan was thrown into disarray even before the troops began landing. The Australian spearhead was mistakenly directed about two kilometres north of the envisaged landing place, nearer to Ari Burnu at what was later named Anzac Cove and on a much narrower front than envisaged in the plan. The reasons for this have been hotly debated over the last eighty years, with tides, faulty navigation by the landing fleet, belated changes of orders all being canvassed. An unauthorised alteration of direction northwards by one of the midshipmen commanding a steamboat, which pulled the whole line of tows in this direction, is the most likely explanation.
As a consequence the troops, on landing, found themselves confronted with far more formidable natural terrain immediately inland than they would have faced at the originally planned landing place. As they pushed inland through this difficult country of tangled ravines and spurs, the various units were split up and inextricably mixed. Only a few small, uncoordinated parties managed to reach the objective, Gun Ridge. These problems were compounded by delays in landing the remainder of the 1st Australian Division, the last of which reached shore four hours behind schedule. In the meantime, the first elements of the New Zealand and Australian Division had also begun landing soon after 9 a.m., and they became intermixed with units of the Australian division.
These deployments were made more serious by the defenders' vigorous response. In the landing zone itself there had only been two Turkish infantry companies and an artillery battery. Although these units used their dominating position to inflict substantial casualties on the invaders, they were too few to prevent the Australians from landing and pushing inland. However, exercising near Hill 971 was the 19th Division, based at Maidos and commanded by Mustafa Kemal Bey. Using his initiative Kemal rapidly deployed these forces to meet the threat posed by the ANZACs, units being thrown into battle as soon as they reached the position. A counter-attack in mid morning drove the Australians back from the 400 Plateau. Kemal then turned his attention to the right of the ANZAC position, where New Zealand troops had joined the Australians in the front line.
A fierce struggle ensued for the Baby 700 feature, but by evening the ANZACs had been forced back from it and the Nek. In this fighting about one in five of the 3000 New Zealanders who landed on the first day became casualties. The Turks had succeeded in securing the high ground. Far from rapidly gaining their initial objectives on Gun Ridge, the ANZACs found themselves in danger of being pushed back into the sea.
This is the history behind the day. I find it pretty fascinating. My interst in this history was really kindled after the barbecue we had in office this afternoon. We all stood in line to get our "rations" like the ANZACs got then. We each had been given a coupon book that granted each a portion of bread, vegetables, one biscuit and a cup of tea. We handed over the coupon to be stamped and collected our food tray and ambled off to find a shade and contemplate our next next assault. Ooops...sorry I got carried away a bit... We had the food and then got back to work actually. :-)
Talking about work, I remember now that Monday is not a day off for me after all! There is some urgent stuff I need to work on and so have to be in office on Monday. Aw shucks! Anyway, I still have two days to take it easy.
Okie folks, I shall leave you all to mull over the ANZAC campaign all those years back. To close, here is the dedication that is stated each year in a dawn service by one of the survivors from the war or a close family member, the last verse of Laurence Binyon's 'For the Fallen':
Alright, Friday evening and am I glad the weekend is nigh! And it is a long weekend too. Monday, the 25th of April is a holiday in Australia and New Zealand.
The 25th of April is commemorated as ANZAC Day. ANZAC is the acronym for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps and this day has its roots buried deep in history from long ago.
Anzac Day commemorates New Zealanders and Australians killed in war and to honour returned servicemen and women at Gallipoli during the First World War. The ceremony itself has been continually adapted to the times, but has also steadily acquired extra layers of symbolism and meaning.
War memorial window, St Andrew's Church, Cambridge.
The Gallipoli campaign, in which New Zealand made its first major effort during the First World War, had its origins in the stalemate which had developed on the Western Front by the end of 1914. Following the initial free-flowing operations, the opposing sides found themselves facing each other along a line of trenches which stretched from Switzerland to the Belgian coast. The power of the defence having already made its impact felt, statesmen in both camps were at a loss as to how to proceed. In these circumstances the need for an alternative approach was patent.
On the Allied side the search for an alternative was encouraged by the opportunities presented by superior seapower. With the German High Seas Fleet contained in the North Sea, the possibility of launching amphibious attacks on the enemy was particularly evident to the British First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill. Impatient to use British naval resources, he advanced a series of proposals, among them an assault on the Dardanelles-the nearly fifty-kilometre-long strait separating the Aegean Sea from the Sea of Marmara, which at its narrowest point, the Narrows, was less than two kilometres wide. The object would be to pass a force into the Sea of Marmara and threaten the capital of Germany's ally the Ottoman Empire.
At the War Council in London, Churchill urged an attack from the sea on Gallipoli at its first meeting on 25 November 1914. This was rejected as such an operation would be too risky but the issue was soon brought back to the foreground by developments in the war. With the Turks advancing northwards in the Caucasus, Russia appealed for action to relieve the pressure. The War Council approved the proposal on 15 January 1915.
The landings were originally scheduled to take place on 23 April, but weather conditions led to a delay of two days. Even if all had gone to plan on the 25th, the force would have struggled to secure its objectives, especially within the time allotted. But the plan was thrown into disarray even before the troops began landing. The Australian spearhead was mistakenly directed about two kilometres north of the envisaged landing place, nearer to Ari Burnu at what was later named Anzac Cove and on a much narrower front than envisaged in the plan. The reasons for this have been hotly debated over the last eighty years, with tides, faulty navigation by the landing fleet, belated changes of orders all being canvassed. An unauthorised alteration of direction northwards by one of the midshipmen commanding a steamboat, which pulled the whole line of tows in this direction, is the most likely explanation.
As a consequence the troops, on landing, found themselves confronted with far more formidable natural terrain immediately inland than they would have faced at the originally planned landing place. As they pushed inland through this difficult country of tangled ravines and spurs, the various units were split up and inextricably mixed. Only a few small, uncoordinated parties managed to reach the objective, Gun Ridge. These problems were compounded by delays in landing the remainder of the 1st Australian Division, the last of which reached shore four hours behind schedule. In the meantime, the first elements of the New Zealand and Australian Division had also begun landing soon after 9 a.m., and they became intermixed with units of the Australian division.
These deployments were made more serious by the defenders' vigorous response. In the landing zone itself there had only been two Turkish infantry companies and an artillery battery. Although these units used their dominating position to inflict substantial casualties on the invaders, they were too few to prevent the Australians from landing and pushing inland. However, exercising near Hill 971 was the 19th Division, based at Maidos and commanded by Mustafa Kemal Bey. Using his initiative Kemal rapidly deployed these forces to meet the threat posed by the ANZACs, units being thrown into battle as soon as they reached the position. A counter-attack in mid morning drove the Australians back from the 400 Plateau. Kemal then turned his attention to the right of the ANZAC position, where New Zealand troops had joined the Australians in the front line.
A fierce struggle ensued for the Baby 700 feature, but by evening the ANZACs had been forced back from it and the Nek. In this fighting about one in five of the 3000 New Zealanders who landed on the first day became casualties. The Turks had succeeded in securing the high ground. Far from rapidly gaining their initial objectives on Gun Ridge, the ANZACs found themselves in danger of being pushed back into the sea.
This is the history behind the day. I find it pretty fascinating. My interst in this history was really kindled after the barbecue we had in office this afternoon. We all stood in line to get our "rations" like the ANZACs got then. We each had been given a coupon book that granted each a portion of bread, vegetables, one biscuit and a cup of tea. We handed over the coupon to be stamped and collected our food tray and ambled off to find a shade and contemplate our next next assault. Ooops...sorry I got carried away a bit... We had the food and then got back to work actually. :-)
Talking about work, I remember now that Monday is not a day off for me after all! There is some urgent stuff I need to work on and so have to be in office on Monday. Aw shucks! Anyway, I still have two days to take it easy.
Okie folks, I shall leave you all to mull over the ANZAC campaign all those years back. To close, here is the dedication that is stated each year in a dawn service by one of the survivors from the war or a close family member, the last verse of Laurence Binyon's 'For the Fallen':
"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them. "
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them. "
Until the next post, adieu!
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