The Great Ocean Road

We had contemplated writing this post on our laptop this morning. We were camped on a terrific stretch of golden beach with the sound of thunderous waves crashing down upon the sand. To shelter from the fierce, howling wind we parked behind a conveniently sized dune. I was eating some particularly crunchy honey roasted nuts and Ju was having muesli for breakfast. Unfortunately, the wind cut through our coats like an onslaught of darts from an array of Amazonian blowpipes and we gave up on the idea. So I have to make do with the public library in Adelaide.

During the last few days my wife and I have been driving along The Great Ocean Road from Melbourne to Adelaide. This is a route that hugs every stomach tightening precipice and each winding curve of the dramatic south coast.

During the day we strolled along extraordinary beaches that stretched as far as the eye can see, we were dwarfed by towering lighthouses, we passed the watery graves of countless shipwrecks, we drove a trifle too close to plunging cliff drops, and we even had the fortune to catch sight of a family of wild koalas.

At night we witnessed unforgettable sunsets that scorched the horizon in burning colours of fiery reds and flaming oranges, we camped by the Petrified Forest (I did not sleep well that night, knowing that something was out there, making even a forest scared) and we were stalked by dark and mysterious creatures that hid under our car while we slept.

As you can see, the scenery was spectacular, the sights were wonderful and most of our senses were delighted, most, but not all. With regret, I have to say that the food was distinctly ordinary and literally nothing to write home about. But considering everything else, I can live with that.

So we are now in a place that my wife pronounces as Ad El A Eide, though I suspect that in reality the place she is referring to lies somewhere 10 miles south of Bagdad. We are in fact in Adelaide and we should be heading north in a few days. At the moment we are hesitating between going to a place called Kangaroo Island (and prolonging the wet climate in favour of seeing some wildlife) or going up north and heading overland into the outback.

Quelques nouvelles en français pour nos amis francophones et francophiles, et pour feter l'arrivée de Martine et Valentina sur le blog.

Nous sommes le 28 avril 2008, nous avons quitté Melbourne il y a 2 jours et nous sommes aujourd’hui sur une plage déserte (ou presque, a quelques algues et coquillages près), en route pour Adelaïde.

Tout se passe très bien, pas de problèmes majeurs jusqu’ici.

A part peut-être cet après-midi, quand mon cher et tendre mari, Philip l’aventurier, a décidé que ca serait une bonne idée de tester ses talents de conducteur de rallye, et de rouler sur une dune de sable, direction: la plage.

L’idée était alléchante, je l’avoue, mais quand même, je n'étais que moyennement rassurée, sachant qu’on avait rien pour regonfler les pneus a la sortie de notre aventure style Paris-Dakar, et je savais aussi que ca n’allait pas être les algues et les coquillages sur la plage qui allaient nous aider a pousser la voiture (ou plutôt l’engin, comme j’aime l’appeler) si on se plantait dans le sable.

Comme Philip avait la même appréhension que moi au niveau du gonflage des pneus, mais qu’il était quand même bien déterminé a s’éclater un peu, on a décidé (presque d’un commun accord :) ) de s’aventurer dans l’inconnu tout en ne dégonflant les pneus qu’un strict minimum. Oui, oui, je sais papa, je t’entends d’ici : ‘Misérables, comment vont-ils réussir à rouler sur du sable s’ils ne dégonflent pas leurs pneus, ils vont ensevelir la voiture, pas assez de traction et tout le tralala!’… et tu as entièrement raison.

On a pas réussi à rouler sur le sable (30 mètres, ca compte pas, hein ?), on a ensevelit la voiture, il n’y avait pas assez de traction (et tralala)!

Au bout d’une demi heure a faire tourner les roues dans le vide, a pousser et a creuser (et moi, secrètement, dans mon coin, a me répéter a moi toute seule ‘J’avais raison, je l’avais bien dit, il aurait du m’écouter, on aurait du acheté un petit van, bien tranquille comme j’avais dit, et blablabla’), on a finalement réussi à sortir l’engin de ce pétrin!

(Comment ? En dégonflant les pneus, bien sur ! Y avait pas le choix.)

Et a partir de la, je dois dire que j’ai retiré tout ce que je marmonnais doucement dans ma barbe jusque la (toutes façons, je le disais pas a haute voie. Règle numéro un d’un mariage réussit : Ne pas contrarier son mari à propos de sa voiture !). Le reste de la balade dans les dunes a été époustouflante, et a l’arrivée, un coucher de soleil a vous couper le souffle. Cette nuit, c’est nous, la mer, les étoiles, et personne d’autre. On a l’impression d’être seul au monde. Je sais maintenant que quand mon mari a une idée en tete, il n'y a pas moyen de le faire s'en débarasser, et c'est tant mieux comme ca. Merci Philip pour cette aventure extraordianire!

Tant pis pour les pneus, ca va surement être la galère pour trouver à les regonfler, mais ca valait le coup.

Dicton du jour : La vie est trop courte pour ne pas dégonfler ses pneus !

(Mise en garde : Dicton à prendre avec des pincettes, selon la voiture)

It's been a while ...

Hey everyone,

After a long period in the wild and having to forage and scrounge out a living in the bush my wife and I have returned to civilization with the express goal of writing to all of you. As you can see, we have updated the blog with a few posts so scroll down to start from where we left off.

Some of you have expressed concern that Ju has not bought any nutella. Let me reassure you that I decided that nutella is not necessary and have chosen to purchase a jar of crunchy peanut butter instead.

Gourmet Region

The Milawa Gourmet Region...

So after a night of having our car smashed by gargantuan raindrops, we decided to hit the road big style and bomb our way down to the Great Ocean Road (just east of Melbourne). We chose to take the ‘freeway’ that cuts inland, via the Southern Highlands and the Northern Alps, rather than the coast. After a few hundred kilometres, the clouds dispersed and the tarmac became drier. While on the road, my capable co-pilot spotted a place called the Gourmet Region near the wine producing Samaria valley. Only a short drive off course, how could we fail to be drawn, like a moth to flame, to a place called a Gourmet Region?

We took the next exit off the freeway and took a leisurely drive along dry roads and fragrant eucalyptus trees. The first good sign was the bright gold and deep reds of autumn vineyards. The colours were bright, the smells of eucalyptus and sweetened grapes were vivid and the scenery magnificent.

Our first stop was the King River Cafe, a place described as not being afraid of ‘bold flavours and generous servings’. We ordered our food and took a seat outside. We sat on an old wooden bench in the terracotta tiled garden. We had to brush off the sun-crisped crisp autumn leaves from the table before sitting down under the warm outback sunshine. A few moments later, our waitress arrived with our order.

My wife chose a flourless chocolate cake that was so heavy and full of eggs, creamy butter, sugar and intense chocolate that it appeared as though the aged wooden table bowed under the weight. Thinking of my sister, I ordered a particularly generous slice of lemon tart. To my delight, it has been scorched and caramelised on top to create a wafer thin but highly crispy crème brulée effect. Few things more satisfying than using a heavy fork to break through a resisting sheet of brulée, then to penetrate though and dig into a succulent and moist centre before scooping up a rich butter and biscuit base onto the fork. What is more satisfying than that though, is ramming the tart laden fork into my mouth and enjoying the sharpness of the lemon, the sweetness of the caramel and the tang of an obliging mascarpone all mixing together, making my taste buds revel in delight. All this was washed down with a wonderfully smoked English Breakfast tea.

After a brief walk through a neighbouring vineyard, we moved on to ‘Walkabout Apiaries’ which specialises in locally produced eucalyptus honey and mead. We sampled a wide range of honey from spiced, to sweet, from runny to creamy and from intense to mild. Ju then moved on to try the local mead. Unfortunately, they had run out of the typical anglo-saxon version (blended with various spices and nutmeg) and so we had to settle for a small bottle of mead that was closer to sherry than what we anticipated.

A short-drive took us to Milawa Cheese Factory. Here we took our time to sample various handmade cows milk and goats milk cheeses. Ju preferred the fresh tasting and particularly creamy chevre and I selected the Aged Milawa Blue, whose rich and complex flavours reminded me a little of stilton. We also bought some fresh and crusty bread to go with them.

Twenty minutes later, down a dry and dusty track, we stopped off at a vineyard to test our pallets on various whites, reds and dessert wines. Unfortunately for Ju, I was driving, so she had to do all the tasting. Ju started with a crisp, dry Riesling, then a tangy, orange Muscat, followed by a late harvest, deliciously rich, honey flavoured Riesling. In a bold move, she skipped the rose, and compared an overbearing and pungent Merlo with an equally unpleasant Shiraz. To finish, Ju tried a slightly more delicate Cabernet Sauvignon but the Muscat won first prize, but we already had the Mead so we moved on.

To end the drive, we stopped off at Frank’s Olive Grove. Here we bought a selection of fresh, green, black and Kalamata olives with a balsamic marinade. Laden with delicious goods, we went in search of a bush camp. After a brief drive in the bush we found a good, isolated clearing. While Ju prepared the food and the bed, I made the fire. Now, I may be pointing out the obvious, but it is the easiest thing in the world to make a fire in a region of drought. The air is so warm, the earth so cracked and arid and the wood so dry that even a scummy, cognitively challenged, soap-dodging back-packer could make a fire out here. As the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the surrounding gum trees, the splendid warmth of the fire kept the chill at bay.

Dinner

When in such splendid isolation, my imagination tends to get a little carried away. As the night fell, The Noises of The Wild increased. In particular, the sound of fallen branches breaking and twigs cracking under the weight of a heavy animal caused great alarm, especially as it was getting closer and more frequent as the flames of the fire regressed. While my wife became visibly more anxious and worried about the noises, I did my husbandly duty, remained calm and reassured her not to worry about things that go bump in the night. As far as she was concerned, it was probably only a curious wombat or the like. Secretly, however, I suspected that a more sinister being was responsible. Something like a totally deranged, entirely demented, wholly psychopathic and utterly hysterical pseudo human, covered in filth and greenish slobber, whose only aim was to cause great fear and trepidation to unsuspecting nobility (us ... my great grandmother was a countess by the way).

Well, we made it through the night regardless and we awoke to a delightful chorus of parrot chirping and cockatoo wailing. The embers of the fire were still warm so we stoked the flames with dried eucalyptus leaves and branches and the flames flickered once more, spreading soothing heat to warm us up. Today, we are off to Melbourne, where hopefully, we will be able to post all this on the blog...

Jervis Bay National Park

A few days later ... Jervis Bay National Park

I am writing this blog while sitting in our car. It has been a few days since the last update but little has changed. We are a few hundred K’s south of the Blue Mountains and the rain has not yet ceased. To be perfectly frank, I am tempted to find a man called Noah and see if he is building an exceptionally large boat. This much rain can only be a punishment from the almighty.

An early start and a beautiful sunrise

I’m certain that the Blue Mountains are splendid and well worth a visit, but after 5 days of thick mist, angry black rain clouds, wet clothing and temper tantrums we have decided to move on. Fortunately we were able to go off-road and make good use of the 4 wheel drive and Ju even gave it a go. Jolly good fun too.

Breakfast, Brit style

So we are now in a beautiful National Park, camping by a blinding white sand beach with perfectly still and crystal clear waters... apparently. We have not seen it yet. As I said, we are in the car, taking shelter from the perpetual and unrelenting artillery barrage of heavy rain drops. Even the sound of Goldfrapp playing on the laptop isn’t enough to drown out the rain. So we are trapped in this tin sarcophagus with nothing but cheap Jonny Walker whisky (I’m more of a single malt, 20 year Bendromach man myslelf but it was a gift so it must be drunk), cold baked beans (I have a slight preference for slow roasted lamb shanks, but unfortunately no lamb to hand) and an empty plastic bag to keep us amused.

On the plus side, we did stop off at a place that claimed to serve the ‘best pies in the world’ and they were particularly tasty. The pastry was deep gold and it came away in small, light flakes when touched and the chunks of beef were tender, the gravy thick and spicy and the aroma mouth watering. Was it the best though? Close but not quite. The best is still from Sanderson’s Butcher Shop in Edinburgh. I did, however, have the best milkshake I have ever had the honour to drink. It was old style chocolate flavour made with malt. It was not too cold and the size was generous. It was not too thick but creamy enough to go down well. Not too sweet so the flavour of the malt came through and it allowed itself to be sucked through the straw, into my mouth, down my throat before ending its journey into my grateful belly with alarming ease. Meat pie and milkshake, nice.

Blue Mountains aka Rain Valley

Blue Mountains:

It was a slow start, but we finally made it to the National Park of the Blue Mountains. Now, when you read National Park, you, just like us, probably think Wilderness, Loneliness, Unspoilt nature... well, you’d be surprised, just like we were if this is what you think a national park looks like in Australia. What a shock it was when we passed the Blue Mountains sign on the Great Western Highway, and all you could see was the six-carriage way road, with thousands of cars driving on it, electric poles and Mc Donald’s. This is what the Blue Mountains National Park first look like.

Thankfully, it only stays that way while you are on the main road. As soon as you deviate from the highway, you end up on little roads, sometimes nothing more than dirt tracks to drive on.

Yee Hah!

We spent our first night in the middle of nowhere. As it was already dark when we arrived, and it was raining, it wasn’t the best condition to set up camp. But we were quite pleased with the cosiness of our car. How lovely to fall asleep next to your loved one, listening to the raindrops falling on the roof of the car. But when we woke up the next morning and it was still raining, we found it slightly less romantic, even quite annoying.

Ju on the hunt ...

During the day, we saw some splendid scenery. Unfortunately, it was too windy and too cold to fully appreciate it.

As the night falls early here (it’s pitch dark by 6 pm), we quickly looked for a spot for our second night. The Park caters for all kinds of adventurers, from posh hotels to a simple patch of grass in the bush. The latter suits us fine, as it’s free and we don’t even have to pitch the tent as we sleep in the car. We found somewhere, by a river. As we arrived early, we managed to set the bed in the car, make ourselves a cup of tea

and even go for a stroll by our patch. We hadn’t walked for 50 metres when we met with.... kangaroos.

Ju is on the hunt...

She found her prey...

... and shot!

In total, we saw 6 different ones. They were not shy at all, as you can see, we could get quite close to them. It was the first time I saw a kangaroo out of the zoo, I was really impressed. They are so funny, the way they move, the way they eat, how high they jump. We are still on our early days of wild life spotting, so we can’t yet really make the difference between kangaroos and wallabies, but it’ll come.

Phil made a magnificent fire (Man=Fire).

As I was sitting by the warm flames, eating my soup, with my husband, I was thinking: ‘This is perfect, it couldn’t be any better, I could stay here forever, and nothing could spoil that wonderful moment’ until it started raining. Zut alors! We took refuge in a big hut, where some other campers also took shelter, and we spent a lovely evening by the fire place in there, chatting with them , getting some good advice on where to go and what to see next.

The rest of the night, however, wasn’t so great. We slept very badly because we were so cold; freezing even. I can hear some of you from here, saying: ‘But I remember them saying they were leaving because they were fed up with Scottish weather, they were looking for the sunshine somewhere else’ and you would be right. People around here say that it’s not usually that cold here at that time of the year, it’s really strange.... basically, really bad timing from us.

Misunderstanding

The misunderstanding was between Phil and me, while I was writing the post last night, I said: 'I'm just going to brush me teeth, I'll finish the post afterwards' and Phil understood: 'I finished writing the post, can you publish it for me please?'

No comment.

And this is why the last post is not finished. I was going to put a picture of the actual car and I was going to explain what we bought to keep us warm at night. And to keep us warm, we went to Ikea. Yes, the Swedes have almost taken over the whole world, there are Ikeas in Australasia (and by the way, the meat balls taste just the same and it even smell the same way as in Europe. They are basically symmetrical to the Ikeas back home (the line of symmetry being, of course, the equator). There, we bought blankets and pillows and a potato peeler. Potatoes=mash=comfort eating=keeping us warm. Logical.

So, here we are, ready to go and say goodbye to rainy Sydney. We're not too sad to leave as the weather has been foul for the last week. We have even taken to sleep with a blanket for the last 3 days (as opposed to just a sheet). We'll be sad to say good bye to our 2 favourite cats in the world, Lucky and Notso. Notso, the brown one, is so small, we think we can smuggle her into our suitcase. I have made the most of hot showers and a real bed recently, knowing that the next real bed we'll sleep in will be in Brisbane, right a the end of our journey, at our friends' house, Peter and Terrii. We are off, to the Blue Mountains (though the clouds will probably swallow up the view and I'll be left with my camera and tripod, waiting for my wife to make a cup of tea for me). A wopping 100kms away! (Ouh, la, la, quelle aventure!) We hope to be back on your screens soon enough, meanwhile, Bisous et a bientot.

Here it is!

Finally, we have managed to take photos of our car (and home for the next few months). And here it is, exclusively, for you... We bought it with 7 seats, like so. But in order to make it more homely, we decided to get rid of the three seats in the middle and put a table in place, like so...


We spent some time cleaning it, and it's now ready to go. Wouhou! We also spent the whole day yesterday getting ready for the big trip, buying all we need (at least, anything we could think of, and was still in our price range. No, Philip, we can't really afford a solar powered home cinema, with surround sound and plasma screen, and DVD player incorporated).

It was Christmas come early for Phil, though. You should have seen the delight on his face when we entered QuickCar, the car shop on Bondi Junction. Apparently, we needed a shovel to dig the wheels out when we're stuck (and to dig little holes to hide our crotes aka poops) and something that looks suspiciously like a cheap Biro, but in fact, tells you the tyre pressure (so that we can drive on the beach) and a toolbox. We bought food, plenty of it (you know us).
But now I see the type of food we bought, I'm worried we'll get scurvy! Thankfully, we've got orange juice, for the vitamin C :) So, the only thing missing, was something to keep me warm at night (you know me)! Now, we're ready to go. En route pour l'aventure!

A perfect place for a snack...

Imagine a restaurant that has no menu.

Imagine a restaurant that has no choice about what you eat.
Imagine a restaurant that serves only meat.
Now can you imagine that restaurant being 'eat all you can'?
I'm sure, however, you can imagine how much my wife and I ate?

You simply walk into this Brazilian style slaughter house/restaurant and sit down, perhaps order a particularly decadent Pinot Noir and wait. If you are fortunate, you will be sitting by The Wall. In essence, The Wall is made of flame belching out soaring heat onto spits of rotating chicken thighs and wings, chunks of rare sirloin, pieces of succulent rib eye, racks of chargrilled rump steak, juicy towers of scotch fillets, racks of BBQ ribs, skewers of tender lamb and strips of caramelised and crispy pork. It is a sight to behold, kilos of marinaded meat roasting over heat and flame, the sound of juices dripping and the smell of flesh grilling making your stomach rumble and your taste buds waiting to be delighted.


All you have on the table is a plate, a razor sharp knife (always a good sign), a fork and a wooden block. The block is painted half red and half green. Green side up lets the waiters know that your primitive and neanderthalic instincts have surfaced and they come round with skewers and platters of meat, slicing and serving tender cuts onto your plate. They don't stop. As long as the wood shows green, they are relentless. You keep eating and they keep serving. If you fancy a stop (but why on earth would you?), turn the wood red side up and the waiters keep away from you until you show the green side.

Needless to say, this restaurant was tailor made for my needs. Three hours of gluttony. I ate so much that I filled both my intestines, my stomach and my oesophagus with juicy and succulent, flame grilled meats. Superb.

So if this is how much we left on our plate, imagine how much we ate...

Trip News...

Other than having the odd snack, my wife and I have been very busy getting our car ready for the 15,000 kilometer journey through Australia. Needless to say, our time has been spent on bureaucracy, provision of supplies, vehicle preparation and route planning. We should be underway on Friday where we will head into the Blue Mountains.

Un 4x4? un van? On sait plus ou on en est!

Désolés pour tous ces changements de direction. J'espere que ce n'est pas trop dur a suivre. Y a pas si longtemps que ca, j'avais annoncé sur le blog que nous avions décidé de laisser tomber le 4x4 et d'acheter un van a la place. Mais quand on s'y attendait le moins, on est tombé sur la voiture de nos reves (enfin, ceux de Philip surtout. Moi, je reve pas trop de voitrues). Un 4x4 oui, mais pas un 4x4 qui va consommer beaucoup d'essence puisqu'il roule au GPL. C'est pas pour dire, mais le GPL ici, c'est tellement bon marché que c'est presque gratuit!
Donc voila, on a acheté un Nissan Patrol, et on aura des photos a l'appui tres vite.

En attendant, une photo pour maman et papa.
Maman et papa, voici la montre que vous m;avez offert pour mon anniversaire:)
Merci le magasin Swatch détaxé de Hong Kong, et merci maman et papa.

Je devrais aussi vous parler de notre petite escapade dans un restaurant brésilien, a Coogee, a coté de Sydney. Une fois de plus, Philip a réalisé un reve: un restaurant ou on ne mange que de la viande, et rien que de la viande. On ne s'embete pas avec les légumes la-bas! Et toute cette viande, c'est a volonté! Philip, tu veux raconter?

Sorry Ju, but a wee but nackered after surfing and my arms a little fatigued, so that story will have to wait...night night.

Oh dear, poor Philou, his muscles are soar after yesterday's session in the waves. We finally got some boards (it actually came with the car, and so did a body board), and we went to buy a super-duper wetsuit top, to keep us warm and toastie in the water (which really isn't as cold as my husband makes it out). So Philip no longer had excuses for going in the water, and it was great fun.

Oohh, alright, alright. Can I just say that you were on the bodyboard, so you had fins to help you get passed the waves. I was on the surfboard, meaning I only had my arms to pass the waves.

Yes, you're right. I should appreciate that. I love you.

I love you too.

Ahhh, bless!

We have come out into the light...

As some of you blogites may have observed, our posts have been a little thin on the ground lately. While you may have thought that we were surfing by day and gorging ourselves on culinary feasts by night, I’m afraid that the reality is less attractive.

For the last week, we have been scouring Sydney for a car to take us on our expedition to skivery. It was not a particularly palatable experience and I have come to the conclusion that all used car salesmen should be promptly rounded up and dispatched of at the earliest possible convenience. Their smug, self-assured attitude infuriated me. I found that when they spoke, it was not words that came out of their mouths but vile and putrid sounds that were laced with lies and treachery. What I found to be particularly fascinating was the fact that they expect you to believe in their integrity. Fools.

There was, however, one lesson to be learned. Used car salesmen will bully women, or try to. It was amusing to see them try to be heavy handed with my wife. They had clearly failed to do their homework. If they had, they would have known that Ju is a) French b) a teacher c) Rose’s daughter and d) in a perpetual state of chocolate withdrawal. Had they known all of this, they would have taken a different approach. Much to their chagrin, those that didn’t heed the obvious warning signs quickly understood that my wife doesn’t take any crap from anyone, especially not condescending, knobbly kneed nincompoops.

Asides from the sales yards, we also made a daily descent into ‘The Car Market’. This is where slimy, filthy, diseased and flea-ridden backpackers come to sell their vans after touring Australia. This place can only be described as a cold, gloomy and damp subterranean cavern filled with the smell of urine and cannabis smoke hanging thick in the air. Each vehicle must be accompanied by its soap dodging owner who will try to convince you that his stench filled, vomit coated, rust ridden vehicle is ‘perfect’ for our ‘romantic’ trip. While my wife bravely remained open minded and insisted in exploring each seemingly repugnant vehicle for its benefits, I remained at a comparatively safe distance, urging Ju onwards to the next vehicle.

As it happens, it was in this place that we found a combination of what we wanted. I wanted a ruddy great big 4X4 to tear-up the outback and knock over a Kangaroo to BBQ and Ju wanted a wee bit of comfort. So we bought a Nissan Patrol LPG (GPL), which means it will save a massive amount in fuel and is more economical than petrol. It even came with a surf board and a body board. So we are all set then. The best of all is that we no longer have to descend into Hades or make deals with devils...

I quite happen to agree.

Happy anniversary!

Five years already!
Is it paper? Is it wood? Is it coton?
Who cares? To me, it is five years of joy to see you both happily married.
You make a fantastic couple, and gorgeous babies.
Keep up the good work (and enjoy your anniversary week-end)!

We have it ...

We have The Vehicle.

Steph and Em, you won't be impressed.

More to come ...

Trois jours pas tres rigolos

Bonjour tout le monde, quelques nouvelles de nos aventures dans l'hémisphere Sud. En fait, rien de tres aventureux ces derniers temps. Tout d'abord, le temps s'est un peu gaté. Le

journées sont parsemées d'averses (genre mousson).

Et entre chaque pluie, le soleil a du mal a se frayer un chemin a travers les nuages. Pas de panique, cependant, car parait-il, le beau temps sera de retour avant la fin de la semaine.

En revanche, on commence un peu a paniquer au niveau de la voiture. Voila maintenant 3 jours que nous sommes a la recherche d'une voiture capable de nous amener de A a B (bon, il s'avere qu'entre A et B, la distance est longue, du genre 10 000 kms. Mais pour les australiens, 10 000 kms, c'est de la rigolade!). Trois jours a parcourir la banlieue de Sydney, les garages de voitures d'occas' et les vendeurs louches (décidemment, les vendeurs de voitures ont une réputation universelle bien méritée).

On avait flashé sur un 4x4 Mitsubishi Pajero vraiment pas cher, on a fait venir un garagiste indépendant pour le vérifier, et heureusement. C'est un service couteux, mais on s'est dit que ca valait le coup. Du coup, exit le 4x4! En discutant avec le garagiste, on s'est aussi rendu compte que le 4x4 était probablement une folie, car il consomme énormément d'essence (tres peu de voitures diesel ici) et qu'on va faire beaucoup de kms. Encore une fois, ca a été dur de prendre la décision d'y renoncer, mais, encore une fois, comme dit ma sage Moz, faire un choix, c'est dire non a quelque chose! En l'occurence, ici, on dit non au tout-terrain dans le bush australien (en meme temps, ca nous permettra d'éviter ca!)


Nous avons décidé d'acheter un petit van, genre flower-power (mais sans les grosses flowers et le signe Peace and Love peints dessus; on prend l'option plus soft, mais moins voyante, genre... blanc).

Moins ca...

plutot ca!
On s'est dit qu'avec un van, on sera plus a l'aise la nuit pour dormir (comme on dormira dans notre véhicule) et que ce n'est pas grave si on roule moins vite, parce que finalement, la route, ca sera une grosse partie de notre voyage. Comme dirait notre cher ami Jean-Jacques Goldman (pour ce qui ne connaissent pas, premierement Shame on you, et deuxiemement, non, ce n'est pas un philosophe, celui-ci prend 2 n ) Il y a que les routes qui sont belles, peu importe ou elles nous menent. J'aurais pas pu mieux le dire. Voila pour nos plans au futur proche. On espere qu'aujourd'hui, c'est le bon, le jour ou on va trouver notre moyen de transport/chambre/cuisine (mais pas salle de bains, ca, ce sera dans la nature :))

Voici une photo qui n'a rien a voir.

Hier, apres une journée de van-hunting, on a décidé de finir l'apres-midi a Bondi beach, mais pas les pieds dans l'eau (il était un peu tard pour ca). Il y a, a Bondi, un super petit magasin de livres d'occas/coffee shop ou on peut savourer une bonne tasse de thé (on voit que les australiens descendent des anglais) en feuilletant et en prenant notre temps pour choisir les livres que l'on va acheter. On a fini par acheter 5 livres qui devraient nous garder occupés quelques temps, surtout qu'on a décide d'utiliser nos longues vacances pour en profiter pour lire les classiques que la vie future ne nous laissera surement pas le temps d'attaquer. Je commence par Dostoievsky (A l'année prochaine!).

PS: Quelqu'un a remarqué que j'ai trouvé comment faire les accents aigus? Pour les graves et les circonflexes, il va falloir me laisser un peu plus de temps.

Petite precision

Information de haute importance!
Le blog intitule 'undertheaussiesun' est un blog realise par Julie et Philip, un couple franco-anglais installe en Australie.
Le blog est donc ecrit par Julie et Philip, en Australie.
Cependant, lors de la creation du blog, Julie et Philip n'ont pas paye pour l'option 'filtrer les spams'.
Par consequent, il s'avere que des spameuses (on en compte 3) ont reussi a infiltrer le blog.
Nous demandons a nos chers lecteurs d'etre patients, le probleme devrait etre regle d'ici peu de temps.

(J' m'en charge)

Merci de votre comprehension.

Crashing into the depths ...

So today my wife and I went to see Australia's first ever Flugtag. In essence, this event is designed to test man's ability to design and build a contraption capable of soaring majestically through the air in a brief moment of glory and prestige. The contestants run down a ramp (attached to the glider), throw themselves into the void, fly a little and then successfully land the glider to a soft landing in the sea.

As you might expect, the reality is a little more entertaining and comical than perhaps originally intended. Contestants build a whole host of a machines that are as aerodynamic as a radiator being hurled into the air. They ranged from being giant sausages to roller-blading penguins and Spitfires to fire engines. Needless to say, none of them got very far and we had a good time watching them plummet into the sea while being nice and dry on a sun swept hill.




We then went for a guided tour of the Sydney Opera House (warmest thanks to Katie and Jaco) and that was really interesting and the design and building of the apparently 'most recognisable icon in the world' is fascinating. Shame it is marred by the way the architect was forced to leave the project just prior to the building being completed due to finance. He is still alive and has never returned to Australia to see his project completed ... sob.




On our way home we took a leisurely stroll through the Botanic Gardens and took some photos of some sleeping Flying Foxes. Cute little rascals 'aint they. Though when they come at you in their hundreds, it does make you want to catch a few and grill them on a BBQ.

As for our car hunt. Went to a few places and we are probably getting either a Mitsubishi Pajero or a Landrover Discovery. Though I wouldn't mind this ...