When we were last over in Australia, I think maybe it was in 2003 or 2004, Chris and Jane had recently purchased their place at Avoca Beach, an hour or so north of Sydney in the car.
Their house isn't right on the beach, but about a 10 minute walk down a hill. It isn't so much a house but a tri-plex, if there is such a word, with 1 large and 2 smaller 2 bedroom apartments. All have their own living / kitchen areas, bathrooms of course, and open onto a balcony (two of the 10 squillion).
The larger unit has two sitting areas, one with fireplace
a large kitchen and a laundry area in the bathroom.
I gather that these are second homes for most people in the area. In addition to Chris and Jane going up many long weekends and being joined by friends, it is also used by their 3 kids for various occasions.
It sounds as though the neighbours' houses don't get used nearly so often and so it is relatively quiet, except for the noise of building work. There has been plenty of work going on at their place as well.
Building work -- even noise aside -- is always a major pain; I know, as we are having some done even as I write (more about this later). Chris and sons have done enormous renovations themselves, but Chris had recently had a new driveway put in and he was anxious to go see how it turned out. It's a very steep drive and, before the new surface, very slippery when wet.
I was anxious to see what they'd done with the wall paper in the small flats. It was the kind that you love to visit but might not want to live with. Fortunately, as everyone was so struck by the 60's psychedelia, Jane decided to save some, or if not she saved sheets to frame and hang.
Bill was willingly press ganged into helping rescue the telephone wire from a tree branch. This involved climbing around on the big balcony in ways that frightened Jane; I just didn't watch. Fortunately, all went well, particularly as Chris had more projects in mind for Bill.
Jane had to return to Sydney to teach her English-as-a-second-language class the next day. Chris took her to the train station and Bill and I took a walk on the beach, copying Jane and Chris' usual pattern for morning and afternoon when they are there. I took many pictures, though it was another disappointingly dull day and everyone was bundled up against the cold.
At one end of the beach is a rock-enclosed area sheltered enough for children to paddle when the tide is in. Beyond that the rock shelf continues around the headland and one finds fishermen and cross-legged computer users meditating on the normally green sea. The patterns on the rocks there are sufficiently unusual and intriguing that I'm certain many photographers have been enthralled. Simon and I have hundreds of snaps between us, I would bet.
In my genealogy research I discovered a cousin, Ellen, who became Sister Mary Camillas and taught at Sacred Heart Mission in Avoca, Oklahoma, a place name I'd never seen before. Her elder brother (my great-grandfather) was an ironstone miner in Dalry, Scotland. When we walked along the rock shelf at Avoca Beach, Australia, Bill pointed out the seam of ironstone that added to the interesting pattern of the rocks.
It seems an amazing coincidence until one considers that Avoca is also a name in Ireland, that Australia was settled by convicts from Britain, that being poor and indebted was a crime and that the Irish were amongst the poorest of the lot. Mining is one of Australia's main industries. This all just reminded me how very lucky I am to get to travel to see and ponder these 'coincidences'.
We had lunch at the local chippy there at Watson's Bay (hmmm, 5 posts; I've made a real meal of that day out -- and a pun just now, I think? Sorry).
It was highly recommended by one of Chris's sisters and whilst I would say that the fish was very nice, Bill and I are accustomed to a much thicker, crunchier batter. Also, Bill didn't think to bring salt over to our sitting place and I'm afraid salt is a major component of fish and chips for me. When I discovered they did have salt, I certainly enjoyed the last few bites a lot more.
On a similar topic of fish, I was interested in this signage showing the large variety of fish one might obtain from Sydney harbour and their legal size and bag limits. Can't say for sure it was all sea-food for me; there are definitely some creatures on that poster I wouldn't want to see on my plate, though some are quite nice.
Unfortunately, across the path from this sign was another which stated (in 12 different languages):
"Due to elevated high levels of dioxins, fish and other crustaeans caught West of Sydney Harbour Bridge should not be eaten. You should release your catch.
For fish caught East of the Sydney Harbour Bridge you should generally not eat more than 150 grams per month. Higher amounts of some fish and crustacean species may be eaten.
For further information visit www.foodauthority.nsw.gov.au or phone 1300 552 406."150 grams is about 5 ounces a month. Not sure it would be worth the cost of a fishing license if one were fishing to eat...
We're still at Watson's Bay, at the very top of the point of the entrance from the Pacific Ocean into Sydney Harbour. It sounds daft, but looking at the map brings the story home to me almost more than having actually been there, or at least putting the two together. The vastness of the blue green ocean on the satellite map gives me chills.
You'll want to read this brief account about the wreck of The Dunbar, a ship (built 1853 in Sunderland, near us) that sailed from England to Australia 31 May to 20 August 1857. There are a number of other accounts; The Dunbar is referred to as The Titanic of Australia. It crossed my mind to say they ought to make a movie about it, but I looked and they already have, in 1912. I think it's due for a remake.
The very short story is that after travelling nearly 3 months across the world, the ship just missed the harbour in a storm (I think I read somewhere it was by about 500 metres.) There were 122 deaths and only one survivor, James Johnson, aged 20. Just imagine what it might feel like, being the sole survivor amongst 123 people, having to grieve for 122 people all at one time and to wonder why you alone were spared.
After this tragedy, the authorities decided to build a lighthouse overlooking the harbour. The first irony is that 2 years after the shipwreck, James went on to be the first lighthouse keeper and lived in this house.
Overlooking the place where The Dunbar should have entered instead of crashing into the cliffs just to the south.
He later moved to be an Assistant Lighthouse Keeper at Newcastle, north up the coast from Sydney; I think I'd have moved on as well. (Note: there are a lot of places in the world named Newcastle, mostly named for Newcastle-upon-Tyne.)
The next irony is that in 1866, James Johnson was involved in rescuing the life of the sole survivor (crew member Frederick V. Hedges, aged 31) of another wreck off the coast of Newcastle, that of the SS Cawarra, which lost 60 lives. Makes one think, doesn't it?
As we meandered around the point, I spotted an opportunity to take a brother and sister snap.
I love taking pictures of Jane and Bill together, partly because of their family resemblance, but mostly because of their obvious affection for one another. As I decided to include this photo, it dawned on me that this post's title has more than one meaning. Bill says that one of the aims of his retirement will be to spend more time with his baby sister.
If you're looking for anything majorly exciting here, you may as well go back to doing some office work, housework or watching TV, whatever it is you do when you're not reading my blog, because you won't find any.
Mind, I'm not complaining. I enjoyed walking around looking at things and it did give me more of a sense of the history of this area. I took lots of photos of course (1,600 for the entire trip, since you asked) and so can show you much of what there is to see.
I could do a whole post on the flora and fauna of Australia, it is so different to what I'm used to, and I might do yet. For now, let me say that they have amazing trees over there. Enormous, twisted things, some with low branches extending parallel to earth for so long as to make one contemplate the depth of the roots required
to stabilise their improbable stretch. Others with multiple roots like an arboreal octopus or several trees all hugging each other.
Some very spindly in comparison but seeming to curl their way skyward so that you look up to find out why.
The colours there are striking as well. Chris pointed out the bottle brush tree (also available in golden yellow).
When he saw me photographing what looked like red confetti on the pavement, he said they were fallen from an Illawarra flame tree (but having looked up the Illawarra part just now, I'm not sure if that was what he was talking about -- right colour, wrong shape. Maybe it's just curled up or something).
This lavender wisteria hangs just about everywhere and you smell it walking down the street.
Also, the trees are often a greyish green colour -- or just grey -- rather than the brown barks I'm accustomed to. 
I have tons of pictures of trees and plants, not to mention birds and critters, and I haven't even started talking about the architecture yet, have I?
I expect I could happily sit for days and days just reading magazines, dinking around on my laptop or dosing on Jane's Veranda, however Bill likes to get out and about and see things. I gather so does Chris (that's Bill's brother-in-law, for anyone who doesn't know). Left to her own, I'm guessing Jane would go sew, though I could be wrong.
Anyhow, our first excursion in Sydney was to go down to the Circular Quay and get a ferry over to Watson's Bay. (Do you know, I don't think I quite appreciated exactly where we were until I looked this up just now...that's exactly like me to simply go along and see what I see. It's one of the ways blogging enriches me, giving me cause to look things up I wouldn't normally. Oh and, whilst we're in parentheses, you do know that you can put place names into Google and click on 'maps' and then 'satellight' to see wondrous things -- literally see most of the world. I'm sure you did, but thought I'd mention it just it case.)
It started with a walk to the bus stop, a block away from Chris and Jane's house.
Chris pointed out a camphor laurel which is considered a noxious weed in Australia (as is pretty much anything not native, I gather). He crushed the leaves for me to smell and it was very reminiscent of my Grandpa, who often smelled of Campho-Phenique (or maybe it was mothballs...).
Using the bus prompted a discussion about senior citizens' perks. Bill has a pass that he can use on any local bus service right across England and Wales for free. Another pass will let him use our metro and it costs £12 a year compared with, last I knew 2 years ago, about £400 for regular folks. I didn't catch what Chris's Senior Card entitled him to, only that Jane couldn't apply for one until after she turned 60, which seemed inefficient. Also, that on Chris's card it says
The holder is a valued member of our community. Please extend every courtesy and assistance.
I thought that was a nice touch, actually. Bill howled with laughter.
I did my usual act of stopping to take photos and scurrying to catch up. I'm well used to it now and it quite suits me; I hope it doesn't inconvenience others too much. On the way to the ferry we stopped to admire the public art.
We passed a pair of buskers, an aboriginal man playing a didgeridoo (more about this later) and another guy hitting a couple of sticks -- a percussion instrument of some kind -- together for rhythm. It was pretty good music, actually, though I didn't think I wanted to buy a $10 CD; not sure I could listen to it for long.
Once on the ferry, I took the obligatory photos of
the Opera House and Sydney Harbour Bridge.
The water was disappointingly grey, much like the North Sea at home, not at all like I remember it looking on past visits. It rained for a bit and so we went inside for shelter. After a couple of other stops we arrived at Watson's Bay. Turns out it had a beach (Camp Cove) with some restaurants
and some nice old houses with amazing views of the Sydney skyline.
