New Year's Eve

Our final fling. Months of indecision paid off. We ummed and arrghed for ages about whether to spend a fortune on dinner in a fancy restaurant overlooking the harbour, go on a boat, watch the fireworks from the zoo................. It just went on and on.

In the end the solution was simple. I won 5 tickets to watch the midnight fireworks from the Cahill expressway (a road that goes just behind circular quay). We got Sham, Lisa and Penelope with all their possessions around for a dinner party, created purely from the contents of our cupboard (eating up), before just popping out to circular quay. Too easy! Even Howard had to admit it was perfect.



The next morning we packed Sham, Lisa and Penelope off to the airport on their way back to the UK.

Carys is 4

Oh, the pressure of organising a 4 year old's birthday party. Nobody told me the rule about inviting one guest for each year of the party girl's life beforehand. We decided to invite nearly everyone we knew in Sydney. It was a good feeling looking round the garden chatting to such a nice group of friends that we are sorry to leave behind.

The party followed the standard format of face painting, pass the parcel, and general sugar high, but despite the sunshine nobody was brave enough to go in the pool. It was quite cold by Aussie summertime standards, which was probably a good thing for us wilting Brits.





I wonder if Carys will remember her Southern Hemisphere birthday.

Running out of time

We've got a lot of things to cram in before returning to England, even if you ignore all the boring stuff like packing up our house, cleaning, and paperwork.

One of Howard's ambitions was to do the bridge climb, so Howard, Oli and I set off in the afternoon on the 27th. It was windy, grey and cold, so I was glad of the full waterproofs, gloves and hat provided. Almost everything you wear is provided, but you are allowed to keep your underwear on. Everything was cleverly designed, with nifty bits of elastic and clips to attach them to you, so that nothing can fall off the bridge. You aren't allowed to take anything loose with you including a camera. The whole process takes 3 1/2 hours, but most of that is getting kitted up. There was nothing remotely challenging about the climb physically or psychologically. It essentially just involves climbing a few staircases, in a slightly exposed manner, unless you have a fear of heights. The pace of it all is so slow that you barely go more than 30 steps before stopping for a photo or to appreciate the view. Our guide managed to make it incredibly interesting with her patter about Sydney, including the details of her ancestor's transportation for stealing a cow. After 10 years of guiding on the bridge she seemed to know her stuff.

We were just about able to make out our house, and it helped us map out our year in Sydney.

Boxing Day Yacht Race

Having spent most Christmases in North Wales over my lifetime, I have to admit that I have never made it into Denbigh for the Boxing Day barrel race. A combination of inertia and an early start has always conspired together, causing me to miss this iconic event. The Sydney to Hobart yacht race was almost bypassed me in a similar fashion, except for a dreary forecast putting us off a trip to the Blue Mountains.

We headed of to North Head with the crowds, and amazingly bumped into a fellow medic from Bristol. Hello Jez!

We spent a lot of time agonising over the best view point and surging ever forward for the perfect spot. In the end we gave up, and I used Evan as an excuse to squeeze to the front of the crowds, balanced on the clifftop viewing platform.

There were literally hundreds of boats in the harbour, and the numerous helicopters buzzing around overhead, all adding to the excitement. I didn't fancy being in one of the small kayaks, it seemed a high risk way of watching the event.

Throw another prawn on the barbie

Christmas day was a bit special this year. Having dragged the Carter's halfway around the world, we thought we'd better make an effort. It seemed even in Sydney lots of folk we're planning the traditional turkey and stuffing, but somehow that seemed wrong. We set out to experience the "Aussie dream". Howard's contribution was to insist it all had to be cooked on the barbie, and I could think of nothing worse than being in the kitchen with the oven on.

First things first we went on a stroll to our favourite Sydney beach and managed to have it too ourselves. Everyone swam and enjoyed the warm water and mild surf. Evan created a sand rabbit, and we generally frolicked and enjoyed ourselves.

Next the Christmas lunch. At noon, Den was getting a bit twitchy that no cooking had been done, but voila 20 minutes later it was BBQ prawns and mango salsa with salad.


Howard was very proud of his salmon baked in salt, and having spent a lot of time thinking about Christmas pudding, I came up with the notion of Christmas pudding ice-cream. In my more creative days I would have made it into Christmas tree shapes, but instead I just put the tub on the table with a spoon.




Santa was very kind and arranged for us to borrow some toys for Christmas, as he knew we wouldn't be able to carry them all home, but really all Carys wanted was a fairy/ballerina outfit, and Evan wanted to be a sock monster. Howard was chuffed by his kangaroo bollocks stubby holder, and did manage to find room in his bulging suitcase to bring it back to the UK. Beware any of you fancying a cold one at our house.

All in all, it was the perfect Christmas, laid back and outdoor. It suspect it will be the first and last time we swim in the sea and our own swimming pool on Christmas day.

Malua Bay Revisited

We didn't meet many Australians in our year in Australia, but the few we did were incredibly hospitable. Ann is my father's cousin who emigrated as a £10 pomme. She and her husband Don have welcomed us into their home on several occasions. Quietly rearranging the furniture to be more compatible with toddlers, entertaining the kids, and regaling us with tales of their very different life. Something about their home makes Carys puke all over the place, but still we have been welcomed back.




We couldn't miss a last opportunity to meet up, and enjoy Malua Bay with them. They took us through the bush, with ancient plants and huge termite mounds, to the beautiful Lilipili beach. There Carys was able to show Taid shark eggs, and build speed boats in the sand while Howard and I enjoyed the waves.

Getting in the Christmas spirit

Well its December, and its snowing hard in the UK. So to empathise we went to the beach and built a sandman. He was small, but perfectly formed, I think you'll agree.

One minute of fame

I've been teaching medical students at the University of New South Wales clinical skills this year. Its helped lift us off the bread line and been thoroughly enjoyable to boot. The first and second years seem so young, but all very impressive. I've had to get my textbooks out and re-educate myself on how to do things properly, but it's been worth it.

Earlier in the year there was a flurry of last minute emails announcing that a film crew from the 7:30 report (news and current affairs programme) would be attending a tutorial to film an aboriginal student with a special scholarship. I was a bit stressed my limited wardrobe would let me down, and that I might look a bit of a prat, but took a deep breath. Then afterwards nothing. Not a sausage, they must have been waiting for a quiet news day, but finally it was on air, and phew, no complete humiliation. It looked like me, sounded like me, and (almost) looked competent.

It was clearly not really about me, but the plight of the indigenous population and the huge gap between their health and that of the general population. With an average life expectancy of 60 for men and 65 for women, and shocking infant mortality.

Apparently there are only 140 indigenous doctors in Australia, but fortunately more coming through the medical schools now. The student filmed has admirable dreams of going home and helping lift her community out of the neglect and ignorance it has faced over the years. I hope she manages to hold onto her beliefs and make it happen.

For those of you with time have a look at the link:
http://www.abc.net.au/7.30/content/2010/s3019291.htm
I appear at about 4 minutes 30 seconds.

What shall I do with the other 14 minutes?

The Bush Salute

I've been reading Bill Bryson's Down Under. Its a laugh out loud take on his travels around Australia, but its been particularly interesting how it has mirrored some of my thoughts and experiences. So in preparation for our long awaited trip to Victoria and the Great Ocean Road I dipped in to find out what Bill thought. He introduced me to something called the Bush Salute, basically you go outside for a nice walk and a fly comes and joins you. He particularly want's to get up your nose, or in your eye so you brush him off. He's quickly joined by about 200 mates, who mainly hitch a ride on your head between bouts of trying to get up your nose. What starts off as a casual brush of the hand becomes a crazed continuous waving of your arms around your head. So your nice stroll becomes a fast march across the countryside with any view obscured by the cloud of flies. Horrid!






The Great Ocean Road was a bit of a disappointment as well. The reality was a small winding highway that runs near the coast, with occasional stretches where you can actually see the sea. I think the continual drizzle did little to lift the spirits (it never rains in Victoria apparently).

As much as I'd like to continue this whinge, I can't really find anything else to complain about. The 12 apostles were worth the visit. Lots of limestone stacks sticking out of the ocean waiting to be swept away, and bathed in spray from the pounding ocean. Quite breathtaking and atmospheric. The Cape Otway lighthouse was good for a piece of cake, but also hundreds of koalas just hanging about doing their thing. And although Howard preferred staying in watching TV and drinking (someone had to babysit), the night visit to see the glow worms was also quite magical, almost like visiting the stars.


We had the same old debate with Trev & Den (the doting grandparents) about making more realistic holiday plans when travelling with the kids. Although we think we've compromised our holidays beyond all recognition, apparently there is more we could give up. They may have a point, as the kids probably prefer some unadulterated parental attention in the confines of the park/garden/pool as much as anything else. Anyway appart from coming home via New Zealand and Singapore, we haven't got any other travel plans!

Dining out

One of the things we decided we must do in Sydney was get a babysitter and go out on "date night". Its probably been one of the things that's kept us sane, and in the absence of TV, has stopped us from spending all our time glued to the internet.

It recently culminated in a stupendous night out at Quay Restaurant with the Seatons. Voted no. 27 on the San Pellegrino top 50 restaurants in the world, its the highest up the list I've ever ventured, and we'd been saving up for months.

In the end we opted for the tasting menu and matching wines. It was all very fancy and top of the bill was the Jackfruit Snow Egg (guava and custard apple on a bed of granita). For those of you who haven't been watching Australian Masterchef you wont have a clue what I'm talking about, but believe me it was good. It was all delicious and quite an experience in terms of eating and ambiance. The restaurant overlooks circular quay, so has fabulous views of the opera house.

What did I take away from the experience, well apart from a muzzy head the next day (mental note not to have a G&T and bottle of bubbly first), it just felt a little bit extravagant to spend so much on a meal however fabulous. It probably was a once in a lifetime experience.

Round 2

Den and Trev have made it back for a second visit, and its an action packed 6 weeks they have planned. In preparation for all the demands, I tried to get them some melatonin to help with the jet lag, but only managed to get homeopathic tablets. Despite all the dilution and the memory of the molecule it didn't help.

Nevertheless they survived the journey, and have thrown themselves into Faulkner life. Shopping, cooking, childcare, washing, etc. Why on earth have they come so far to be abused. In between all their chores, we've managed to do a bit of exploring. The whales at North Head weren't cooperating, but we still had a nice walk. The ferries are always a winner, there really is no better way to explore Sydney, and the botanic gardens are still special despite the flying foxes trying to kill all the trees.

We took them to Kangaroo Valley for the weekend, and although it was 11.5 degrees and raining when we arrived, managed to have a nice weekend spotting wombats from the terrace of our remote rental house. 15 minutes up a dirt track felt a little far to do much popping out, so we enjoyed the view, wildlife and our books.










If you look closly you'll see that Howard and Trev felt comfortable enough to wear their matching bush hats.

Difficult decisions

We've spent a lot of time talking about whether we'd like to stay in Australia in the longer term. It's got lots going for it:

• Better climate (although the average rainfall in Sydney is twice that of London, and after being too cold for months in an unheated house and unsuitable clothing, I now don't want to go outside as its too hot and feels like my flesh is smouldering).
• Lots of phenomenal beaches, but again there are those pesky sharks and jellyfish.
• Better economic security for our kids (?????), hard to be any worse than the UK at the moment, but we're looking forward to bringing our Aussie dollars back to the UK.
• More rewarding careers (???), its been going well so far.
• Fewer people

The list could go on and on, but ultimately its not Europe and we still have a pretty tenuous social network. I've spent 3 out of the last 6 weeks being a single parent, and being the only carer for my kids on this continent has felt like a big responsibility.

Howard has been swanning all over the globe, but is vowing never to do international travel ever again, so we might have felt a bit isolated from our friends and family back in Blighty, if we stayed.

So we'd decided that we were definitely returning to the UK, then Howard's boss offered him a job. Now, apart from buffing his ego, it re-opened the whole debate again. Ultimately, you can have the potted version rather than relive weeks of soul searching, as Howard (my very talented husband) is just winging his way back from the UK after a consultant job interview in Bristol. Fortunately he got the post, as I'm not sure how we would have got over the annoyance at the time, effort and money involved in travelling 17,000Km for an interview, and not being successful.

So for better or worse, we'll be back among you on the 17th January 2011. We're thinking of having a party to celebrate/commiserate.

Australian wildlife

My quest to meet genuine Aussie animals to an unexpected turn as we arrived at our weekend holiday home in Jervis Bay. I saw an interesting looking spider climbing up the garage door, and thought "What an interesting red spot it has on its back- could it be a red back spider?" Fortunately help was at hand, and the heroic handyman bopped it with a paintbrush before I could take a photo. I think he was secretly a bit worried as he'd just opened the garage door.

For those of you who don't know, it's one of Australia's poisonous spiders, and can kill you. Apparently it timid, and not as dangerous as a funnel web spider.............


We also did some more scheduled animal spotting. On the way home from Jervis Bay we stopped in Kangaroo Valley for a sunset picnic watching wombats and wallabies. The wombats are bit like a cross between a koala and a teddy bear. These ones were happily snuffling around a campsite, content to ignore us and pose for the camera. Evan thought they were great, but Carys preferred chips.





Oh, and how could I have forgotten the echidna (funny, large hedgehog like animal) we spotted crossing the road.