Some Travel Photos - Australia

 

In my last post, I mentioned that I have visited a grand total of 41 countries in my life. It all started when I was 20 years old and travelled to Europe with an Interrail ticket which allowed me and my mate to travel around Europe on train. Since then, I have been all over the world and I thought that I would share some photos we took on some of those journeys. 

The first I am going to cover is Australia. 

We travelled there with Mrs PM’s mother who at the time was celebrating her 60th birthday. It was way back in 2005 and England had just beaten Australia in the Ashes. I was hoping to exchange some banter with Australians that I met. I did, of course, and it was all good fun because Australians and British people share the same sense of humour.  

The opening photo above is the sun rising over the Coral Sea  at about 6am. This is one time that jet lag was useful.

Here are a few other boring photos from the trip.

Plastic Mancunian meets Koala

"What kind of creature is this?" asks the koala

There are numerous horrible creatures in Australia and when I arrived there, I was very nervous about meeting any of the spiders, snakes, sharks or crocodiles that live there. However, I didn’t mind meeting a Koala because they look cute and cuddly. 

And they are. 

However, the one I was holding didn’t smell too good (he probably thought the same about me). The above photo was taken in Kuranda National Park in Queensland. 

Plastic Mancunian on a Train

Don't lean out of the window!

In the same place, we took a train ride. It was so hot in Queensland that I needed a hat and I bought the one I am wearing in Port Douglas. I still have that hat today and I still wear it when on holiday. It’s comfortable and washable and can be packed easily. 

Mrs PM in the Coral Sea

A female Mancunian interloper

Mrs PM is very brave, and she wanted to see the Great Barrier Reef. I did some research and when I discovered that there were box jellyfish living there and, worse, an evil little bugger called an irukandji jellyfish, both of which could sting life out of you, I decided to stay above water and just take pictures. For such creatures, the sea is their realm and we don’t belong there. I guess stinging us is their way of saying “go away and leave us alone!” 

Mrs PM didn’t get stung thankfully and she enjoyed her little swim with the wildlife. 

Brisbane

A lovely view of Brisbane

Our trip to Australia began in Port Douglas and Cairns but after that we caught a flight to Brisbane and I remember the flight because we saw a lot of the city from above. Talking of which, here is a great view of the city from Mount Coot-Tha just to the west of Brisbane. 

"In the Navy - you can sail the seven seas ..."

And later we caught an impromptu navy band in the city centre.

Byron Bay 

A white lighthouse

"Go East ..."

After Brisbane we hired a car and spent the next week or so driving the 1000km south to Sydney. Along the way, we stopped at Surfer’s Paradise and visited Byron Bay and the lighthouse on Cape Byron, which is the most easterly point of Australia. 

Sydney

We stayed at a few more places on the way south, such as Coff’s Harbour, Nambucca Heads,  Port Stephens and Pokolbin in the Hunter Valley where we sampled some fine Australian wines. The journey to Sydney took a week or so and we stayed in Darling Harbour and became total tourists. We wandered around the city, visited the zoo and took a boat ride. 

I celebrated my 43rd birthday in Sydney. 

Here are a few photos I took.

A giant coathanger

The same giant coathanger as seen from The Rocks

A place where opera singers ply their trade

I won an Oscar (in my head)

I won an Oscar for my performance on Tuesday 11th October 2005. 

It was the day when I convinced, Mrs PM and a group of stranger that I actually enjoyed climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge, even though I am terrified of heights. 

You don’t believe me? 

Here I am with Mrs PM at the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and I look as though I am as happy as I can possibly be. 

The truth is that I was absolutely screaming with terror inside. Why do you think I am hanging onto Mrs PM for dear life?

A happy Mancunian and her terrified partner

And the Oscar goes to the Plastic Mancunian (thanks to AI).

"I'd like to thank nobody because I'm too terrifed to speak"

Fear (Part Two) - Heights

I have a secret that I want to share: I do NOT plan to throw myself off a tall building.

To be honest, if I did have suicidal tendencies, hurling myself into space from a lofty position would be the last thing I would do. The reason? I am afflicted with is acrophobia: an irrational fear of heights. Like many co-sufferers, when I venture to uncomfortable heights (usually about fifty feet will do it), I feel as if an unseen and unknown force is drawing me to the edge of the precipice with the sole purpose of flinging me to my death. How stupid is that?

I admit it – I am being totally and utterly ridiculous about this. There is no invisible entity lurking in the shadows next to a cliff waiting to push me off. So why am I so scared? I really don't know. And the worst thing about this is that I am getting steadily worse. My fear of heights is increasing at a rate that is directly proportional to my age. As a child I don’t recall being afraid of tall structures. In fact I distinctly remember jumping up and down, as a child, on the glass floor at the top of Blackpool Tower. Something must have changed in all those years but I simply cannot recall ever being in a position of jeopardy at a great height that might have triggered the descent into acrophobia

Despite my fear, over the years I have scaled some of the world’s tallest structures; the Eiffel Tower, The Empire State Building and even the CN Tower in Toronto in order to combat my fear. Each time I have failed.

Take the Eiffel Tower for example. I climbed up to the second level of the structure, gripping the sides in sheer terror. I then went to the top in the lift and was perfectly fine. You see my problem is that when I am enclosed I am okay. At the top of the Eiffel Tower, I was caged in and there was no chance of falling at all. Same with the CN Tower – I had absolutely no problem walking around admiring the view.

Sadly I came unstuck when I visited Sydney in 2005 and Mrs PM persuaded me to climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Knowing that my fear of heights might intervene I asked the check-in assistant:

“I’m scared of heights! Is that going to be a problem?”

Her reply was:

“Don’t worry about you fear of heights. Leave it on the ground, mate! No worries.”

When the assistant offered her advice I had a moment of spontaneous insanity during which time I paid my fee and agreed to do the climb. This insanity lasted until the point of no return when, after a pre-climb and health and safety briefing, I found myself walking along catwalks with wire meshing at my feet that were approximately 170 feet above the ground. The insanity departed and absolute terror took its place. My heart started beating faster than a Cozy Powell marathon drum solo and leapt up into my mouth.

And then it got worse. In order to cater for all levels of fitness, the actual climb to the summit of the bridge took ages and ages. Our guide was superb and asked if everybody was okay. Only Mrs PM (to whom I was clinging) was aware of my discomfort.

“Look, there’s the Sydney Opera House”, people said. “Wow, what a view!”

I didn’t look until I had to.

I clung on for dear life but somehow managed to completely fool everyone in our party that I was fine, using a combination of Oscar worthy acting, strategic eye-closing, deep breathing, using Hulk-like steel grips on Mrs PM’s arm and lying my bloody arse off to the guide when he asked if was okay. Nobody suspected that I was absolutely crapping my pants all the way up, all the way across and all the way back down again. We were all perfectly safe, harnessed to the bridge itself and each other and under the protection of a superb guide. There was absolutely nothing to fear – apart from the height. What seemed like an eternity later, we were back down on solid ground. The climb had lasted a couple of hours and I have never been so relieved in my entire life. Thankfully there is photographic evidence to prove that I made it.

I will endeavour to try to understand why I am so idiotically afraid of heights, starting with a trip to Hong Kong in November, where I shall undoubtedly crap myself as I stand at the bottom of one of the countless skyscrapers in that formidable city. I’m just glad that Mrs PM will be there to hold my hand, though if she suggests abseiling down the Bank Of China building I shall retire to the nearest bar and leave her to it.