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?