OZtralia.tv Blog

By: Phoenix Arrien

Autumn is ‘burning-off’ season in southern Australia. The idea is that you burn the grass and ground cover during the cooler months with the possibility of rain stamping out any stray burns. That way, in Summer there is less fuel for bushfires.

We were sipping a coffee in the main street of a mountain village recently, when nine fire trucks screamed past. They were on their way out to an out-of-control burn just up the road. The National Parks and Forest Reserve staff who often conduct the burn-offs don’t always read the weather right and one burn-off had gone out of control.

A thick plume of smoke emerged a little distance away and all we could hope was that it wouldn’t come our way. It didn’t. The boys in the red trucks did their thing and then the rain came.

Many bushfires get started by someone throwing a cigarette out of a car window and it takes merely a spark in warm weather conditions to begin a fire that can eat up thousands of kilometres of country, destroy homes and kill.

Keep those ciggies in the car. A rubbish bag. Your pocket.

 By: Phoenix Arrien

Who travels to Australia to meditate? Oz has many attractions but sitting on one’s behind to contemplate one’s navel or nothing at all, is usually not one of them.

However, a group of people have just emerged from a wooden temple in the eastern coastal state of New South Wales after meditating for three years, three months and three days. They were not allowed contact with the outside world apart from a phone call every few months, so they are trying to come to grips with the changes right now.

It is worthwhile getting away for a bit and giving yourself a break from the world; however you don’t have to put yourself away for that amount of time of course. Australia has many different options.

Meditation retreats where you can sit for an hour or a week and have everything supplied; walkabout tours that stem from aboriginal ‘walkabouts’ or ‘heading bush’. You can join group walks or just wander off into the bush - with plenty of preparation and understanding of Australia’s diverse and often challenging environments.

Or do what I and most of Australia love doing. Go to a beach, find a room in traveller’s accommodation or camp in a ‘holiday park’ and just relax on the sand for as long as we can get away from responsibilities.

Make sure that you keep out of direct sunlight between the hottest hours of the day (usually 11am-4pm) and smear plenty of sunscreen on your skin and wear a hat. The sun is brutal Downunder, but nice!

By: Phoenix Arrien

I find myself on the East Alligator River bordering the great World Heritage wilderness of Kakadu on one side and the aboriginal-owned expanse of Arnhem Land on the other.

“Crocodiles jump three quarters of their body length out of the water,” drawls the aboriginal guide. We jump back from the sides of the boat and into our seats.

“Do they know we are here,” I ask, dubiously peering at the closed eyes of a nearby four-metre reptile unchanged since the dinosaur era.

“They can smell a dog five kilometres away.”

“Er… humans are pretty big…,” I squeak.

“A Croc’s jaws has a force of 5 tons just on the upward thrust. I once saw a water buffalo stuck in mud. A tractor couldn’t pull him out but a croc came along and ‘adios amigo’…”

These titbits from our guides, armed only with spears, kept coming as we silently swept up the murky waters in that little boat.

As the current took our low-sided boat down the river, the reptiles kept appearing throughout the two-hour ‘cruise’. Short legs protrude out of great-scaled torsos tapering into large powerful tails. Long, and I mean LONG teeth stick out of diamond shaped flattish heads like rows of stalactites and mites. The overall impression is one of bumps and knobs everywhere… and stillness. The animals lie about like a rugby team on a Caribbean Holiday, looking deceptively harmless, sunning themselves to keep their cold-blooded bodies warm.

The cruise stop by cliffs containing aboriginal rock art, the ‘books’ of ancient aboriginals in the area teaching them how and when to hunt creatures. Good to know these chaps get the low-down from the ancestors. We see proud eagles and wallabies, yellow dingoes and nervous wild horses called brumbies. The guides showed us the use of natural foods found along the riverbank. Hunting tools are brought out to demonstrate spearing techniques. However, it is the crocodiles and our morbid fascination with these dangerous reptiles that dominate the cruise. For we feel constantly watched, like barely tolerated strangers in alien territory… and as the guides quickly pointed out with relish when the question arose - they are very territorial animals.

Almost exterminated earlier this century as vermin they are now protected and numbers are growing. Skins and meat, taken from captive crocodiles kept in ‘farms’ provide a domestic and export market worth millions of dollars a year. Even ‘domesticated’ crocodiles bite though, and most farm staff have a variety of scars up and down their arms.

We reach an innocent looking stream flowing in from the north. This is the home of Eric, the biggest piece of scale on the river. At six metres he is almost 100 years old and wise. He don’t show himself and we don’t go looking too hard. Any animal that swallows whole stones to help digest buffaloes and horses has my undying respect.

As we pass Eric’s territory, I try to ignore a specific part of the side of the aluminium boat. For there, indented forever, are teeth marks from past crocodiles…. curious apparently!

 By: Phoenix Arrien

“So you’re telling me, if I waded into the river now, I would die in the most wretched and abject agony known to man or woman?”

“Yup.”

“And if I pick up the wrong seashell, the little critter inside would sink their pincers into me and the grim reaper would carry me off to the halls of Valhalla?”

“Yup.”

“And there this a bird, a Castaw…castat…”

“Cassowary.”

“…Cassowary, that can’t fly but is the size of a man and will slice me open with a single claw on each foot…yup?”

“Yup.”

Certainly food for thought. Most Aussies we meet out here in the northern reaches of the continent were not all talkative, but when they do tell you something, it pays to listen. And I am paying…for yet another beer just to keep him talking in a bar in Darwin, a small city in northern Australia.

Turns out he used to work as a wildlife officer and knew his critters. Australia seems full of dangerous creatures especially in the wilder northern regions. I learn from our discussion - made up predominantly of deadpan mutters by former officer interspersed by little gasps from myself - that this country has the world’s seventeen most lethal snakes, a poisonous octopus, an electric numb ray and many more harmful species.

I am especially fascinated by a stonefish, that doesn’t do much and looks like a rock, but step on it - even with a sneaker on - and its twelve spikes inject your foot with “…a myotoxin bearing a molecular weight of 150,000.”

“And what does that mean exactly?”

“Pain beyond description followed by the inability to move, then breathe, your heart goes nuts and you are not in good shape…”

“How did you handle working with all these lethal animals?”

Pause.

“Lots of beer.”

I suddenly understood why northerners drink more of the heavy type of beer than their southern counterparts.

However I am about to ignore all this danger and go hunting for the meanest, mightiest, mouthiest animal of them all. The living dinosaur: crocodiles. If I make it through the weekend floating up a croc-infested river up here in the ‘Top End’ of Australia, where the emus and buffalo roam, I will let you what happens about it. On Monday.

If I don’t make it, well its been a short and sweet time knowing y’all!

By: Phoenix Arrien

In Australian post offices there is sand for sale.

Now this is strange you may think. However it is not just any old sand. Not the sand from the legendary Bells Beach on the South Coast or a sugar white beach from Queensland. It is not even from some island floating in a pea soup of blue and green on the Great Barrier Reef.

No it is sand from a beach in Turkey. White Australia (as different from Black of Indigenous Australians) has only a couple of hundred years of history on this great continent and we tend to grope around for meaningful legends that help us identify our national characteristics.

ANZAC means Australia and New Zealand Army Corps and it was the boys in the corps who landed on a Turkish Beach on the Gallipoli Peninsula on 25 April 1915. While Australians had fought in the Boer War in Africa, this was the first time the nation had really made its mark on the world stage.

Eight fruitless months of fighting, dying and rotting in trenches, finally saw a retreat, but not before the ANZACs got a reputation for courage, endurance and loyalty under fire. Through ingenuity and lateral thinking, the retreat was carried out without one loss of life. These attributes Australian’s view as the ANZAC spirit and hope we still display such things.

We probably do when fighting bushfires or a ‘mate’ is in trouble. We probably don’t when fighting for the petrol bowser during fuel strikes.

Which brings me back to the sand. The sand is from the beach at Gallipoli, the very sand that those troops stomped on and no doubt cursed. (Imagine running through sand with rifles, stores, equipment and such, yeeech!) Now however it is a tangible bit of our history.

So tomorrow is ANZAC day and while it is an enjoyable public holiday, it is also a day of pride and remembering for many with veterans of any war or their descendants march in parades through the streets.

Speaking of bravery, I am off to the north of Australia to hunt for wild animals. Join over the next few days and let’s try not to get eaten.

By: Phoenix Arrien

Anyone who has travelled to Australia and not been to Sydney will either be a hermit on a yacht or an illegal boat person. Ok not quite…but almost.

Sydney is ‘in your face’ and well worth staying a few days during your Australian travels (but no longer!). The largest city in Australia, it offers the best buzz and nightlife, worst crime and most middling food in the country. However accommodation is something this city does excel in (bar Melbourne). The accommodation choices in the heart of Sydney city are many and among the best are:

InterContinental Sydney (117 Macquarie St, Sydney)

Efficient hotel within a grand 19^th Century building. The lounge overlooks the harbour and the décor is a mix of historic mementos and new designer furniture. Dining is at formal and informal restaurant and cafes. There is a pool and sauna and across the road lies wonderful gardens and near the ferries.

Park Hyatt Sydney (7 Hickson Rd The Rocks, Sydney http://www.sydney.park.hyatt.com/)

Uniquely situated beneath the Harbour Bridge on Sydney Cove, this property offers great views of the iconic Sydney Opera House. Dining makes full use of the beautiful harbour views and there’s fun to be had in the sun at the rooftop pool. All rooms have balconies and there is plenty to see, while the staff provides unbeatable personal attention.

Shangri-La Hotel Sydney (76 Cumberland St The Rocks, Sydney  http://www.shangri-la.com/) In a prominent harbourside setting, with stunning panoramas of the harbor bridge, opera house and city skyline, this mustard-yellow 36-story highrise hotel is a Sydney landmark in its own right. Inside, it’s very sophisticated and chic, dining is stylish recreation centers on a health club, neoclassical pool and sauna. Plenty of room for playing boats in the large marble baths in the guest rooms, so pity about the water shortages.

The Sebel Pier One Sydney (11 Hickson Rd Walsh Bay, Sydney, http://www.mirvachotels.com.au/).  A great location near water, shopping, entertainment and historic areas there is a strong nautical feel to this hotel with the unusual rooms sporting plenty of nooks and crannies to explore. Dining is on a sunny terrace overlooking the water and there are parks nearby as well as a great waterfront.

Crowne Plaza (150 Day Street, Sydney, http://www.crowneplazadarlingharbour.com.au/) This no-frills, comfortable hotel is well-placed between the entertainment and leisure precinct of Darling Harbour and Sydney’s Central Business District. Eat at the restaurant, dip in the pool or skip off to the endless number of entertainments and attractions nearby.

By: OZtralia.tv Staff

When I was told I was going to get into a “Zorb” I have to say, I really did not know what in the devil to think.

“So, just what is this Zorb?” I asked.

“It is a big plastic ball, similar to that of a hamspter ball, and we are going to roll you down a hill…” I was told.

-Literally that is what it is-

At first glance, a Zorb look like some space aged contraption. In actuality, it is a pretty simple concept. Inflate a big ball, put another ball inside of it, fasten the small ball (somehow) inside of the larger ball, and then roll yourself down a hill.

This is what the Zorb Gold Coast website has to say for themselves:

“A Zorb® is a BIG, fat, 3 ½ metre huge inflatable ball, round and bouncy, you jump inside it, it rolls and so do you. Excited – you should be as the ride begins with a drive to the top of Zorb® Park hill, then enter the Zorb® and be launched down our custom designed tracks.

There are two different ways to ride in a Zorb®, one involves getting wet and one doesn’t, simple!! Water in the hydro Zorb®s is to make the surface slippery so you slide rather than rotate with the Zorb®. The Harness experience is designed as a more extreme ride as you are rotating every 10 metres.”

I think they really want to let you know that “Zorb” is a registered trademark…

Nevertheless, it was a real fun time. A couple of times down the hill and I was finished, but some wanted to be tusseled around in the Zorb all day long.

Check it out.

They call “college” here “Uni.” At first, I did not get it. Soon, I was fast enough to derive the conclusion. School does not start for a couple more weeks. Next week is “0″ week followed by week one. During 0 week, we have get-to-know-ya games and the like. I am going on a surfing adventure that the college offers and a wet and wild adventure.

The Australians are a nice bunch. I live about 10 minutes, by car, away from Surfer’s Paradise. Do I have a car? No, but I have bicycle! A jolly ride on a bike to Surfer’s is over an hour.

If I receive nothing else from my time in Australia, it is respect for bicyclists. A friend in New York was the one to propose the idea to buy a bike. “Gunnar, you should really get a bike and explore,” he said.

I remember in Idaho, mother and I would be driving the van in some place like Lewiston, and I would poke fun at the bicyclists peddling their heart out alongside the road. I would try to sing the instrumental part of the Wizard of Oz hit, when the witch is riding her bicycle. “Dundantan dundantun da dun, Dundantan dundantun da dun, Dundantan dundantun da dun…”

Now, I am the proud owner of a bike. “One, and two, and three, and four,” I count to myself as I trudge up a hill. It is always best to have rhythm, right? “One, and two, and three, and four” and then some person thinks they are a barrel of laughs and passes me going 120 kph on their motor bike, and I am left to watch them cruise up the hill. Still, there is no better feeling of accomplishment than when I pass over the crest and am greeted with a cool breeze.

One could really get himself hurt here riding a bike. They have things called “roundabouts.” We have them back in the states, but they are few and far between. Here, you cannot go more than a half mile before coming to a darn roundabout. Riding a bike through a roundabout is hard.

Traffic is coming and going, and then horns honk because you are in the way…but I have managed to get the horn honking down to a minimum as I figure the system out.

It is very interesting to be watching the news in the U.S. right now. It makes me feel proud to be from there, but also very dismayed. Namely, the talk of gas prices gets me. Sure gas prices are bad back home, but here they are a lot worse, equivalent to over four dollars a gallon. Australians just go with the flow and are not complaining about prices too much, because gas here has always been expensive.

Maybe if they got rid of some of the roundabouts though, they could save on gas, as a straight line is the fastest way to any given destination, but that is not the point.

News.com.au says that Brisbane is a fantastic getway in this new article.

Brissy (as it is called by the locals) is a nice time. It provieds a “city” atompshere that we feel is the best in Queensland. Australia is known for its rustic beauty, but Brisbane offers the night life and dining that only a city can offer.

We had the pleasure of staying in one of (what we think is) Sydney’s best hotel’s, the Sheraton on the Park.

Right next to Hyde Park, this hotel is very luxurious and relaxing. We came through here just on a whim really… We were on our way to film in Perth and found ourselves in Sydney  on lay over.

When we walked into the hotel, we knew it was a different place all together. The executive lounge though…that took the cake. The view of Sydney is amazing.

We say that seeing is believing. Check it out for yourself.