Australia   Qantas landed me on my final continent before dawn, so it was still dark. But I’d been wanting to come to Australia for so long that I couldn’t be quite sure I was really here. This arrival just seemed different than arriving in other places, and I realized immediately that I’d been right. While the US (and Canada, and New Zealand) is not Australia, nor vice versa, the similarity is deeply palpable. I immediately felt just as comfortable and at home in Sydney as in San Francisco, Vancouver, or Christchurch. I perceive them as extensions of each other, different, yet the same.

Sydney   The first step was to pull out that sweater and jacket. August is the end of winter; just add six months and the southern August is the northern February. But so far in Sydney, it’s been brisk, sometimes breezy, but with bright sun. Some days the sweater comes off, and other days, even the jacket as well. Remember, Sydney is as far into the chilly south only as Atlanta or Los Angeles is into the chilly north, so don’t imagine a Boston winter here. And Spring comes in September.

One of the commuter rail lines passes the airport, so I bought a rail ticket downtown. The center-city rail distributor is almost as good as the one in Tokyo. The airport rail line coming in from the south stops first at Central Station on the southern end of downtown, then continues north circling in the form of a question mark all the way up to Circular Quay at the north end, then swinging back south to stop at Wynyard and Town Hall, covering the center city quite well. Wynyard was steps from my hotel, the Westin Sydney in Martin Place.

I’d initially chosen the Westin because it was free on Starwood points, but it’s a beautiful place in a beautiful and perfect location. Its service is laid-back and complete, and not intrusive as in the Oriental in Bangkok. I was fully satisfied. There’s the additional feature that the hotel recycles a beautiful heritage post office with a large atrium in its center/centre. I’d emailed my early arrival in advance and of course (!) they had a room ready. After the overnight flight and having LOST three hours in the back-tracking time change, I lay down for a quick nap first and woke up four hours later at almost noon. Not to worry. The rest of my day went off as well as I could have wanted it to.

For purposes of visualization, let’s use George Street. From south at Central Station it runs up through the Chinatown and Town Hall neighborhoods. Martin Place, with the Westin, crosses it just before the Wynyard station, and then George Street continues north into the historic Rocks neighborhood, which abuts Circular Quay. My goal this first day was the areas south of Martin Place.

The most striking feature I noticed immediately was the wealth of heritage buildings in Martin Place, George Street, and other streets nearby, displaying a robust urban fabric. The 19C remains alive here, mixed in with the most modern structures. Particularly notable is the restored Queen Victoria Building on George Street just above Town Hall, which is a huge Victorian shopping arcade of great style. Australian cities have now all added free shuttle buses circling downtown, and I took the shuttle down George Street to Central Station.

Months before, I’d printed out a walking tour of Central Station, just to see the history of it, but I also had business there. I’d arranged for vouchers for the six major train trips I’d be taking across Australia, and had to pick up the tickets and make a small final payment. But then I was ready to go. I took the shuttle back up to the center, and stopped off at Hyde Park, which runs north-south a few blocks east of George. It’s a handsome park with an amazing fountain, and surprisingly, given the season, large, blooming flower beds. Adjacent was the handsome St Mary’s Cathedral, but more of interest to me was the older, more austere St James Church dating to colonial days, when its steeple, today lost amid skyscrapers, used to guide ships entering Circular Quay. That evening I went back down to Chinatown, and once again, enjoyed dumplings and more at one of the many branches of Din Tai Fung (I ate there in Tokyo, Kyoto, Taipei, Singapore, and now Sydney).

The next day I walked from Martin Place north up George into Sydney’s area of greatest interest. To picture it, you have to do this. Hold both arms out in front of you, but bent at the elbows. Your arms now form Circular Quay, which encloses Sydney Cove, the original landing place of the First Fleet. Your head is where that low-level white building is, the Circular Quay Railway Station, and a half-dozen well-used ferry wharves jut out from there.

The upper end of George Street runs up your left arm through the historic neighborhood called The Rocks, from which this picture was taken. Although much of The Rocks has been lost to overdevelopment, there is still enough remaining in the historic district of narrow streets and stone buildings to exude character and charm. I walked all the way out to the end, Dawes Point, which is where your left hand is in our illustration. Coming up along The Rocks and then leaping Sidney Harbour from Dawes Point is the iconic Sydney Harbour Bridge (1932), seen here in a night view from Circular Quay. You can climb the pylon, walk across on the lower level (1/2 hour) or walk across the arch (!). I was tempted to walk across the lower level, but ended up declining, having only recently walked across the Brooklyn Bridge for the third time. The bridge crosses the harbour at enough of a slight angle to make the view from Circular Quay particularly pleasant, as though it were offering you its best profile.

I then walked fully around Circular Quay, which was full of activity, some taking ferries, some sitting in cafés, some people-watching. I followed the Sydney Writers’ Walk and found Mark Twain’s plaque (2010/13) right at your right elbow. Also marked in the pavement along the way were two previous shorelines, which did indeed seem more circular in nature.

Your right hand forms Bennelong Point, the location of one of the most famous structures in the world, the Sydney Opera House, completed in 1973, which I then walked around to view from all angles. It’s amazing how quickly this structure received iconic status, as well-known as the Taj Mahal and Eiffel Tower. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site, unusual for a 20C structure. It’s become a symbol not only of Sydney, but of all Australia. It was designed by Jørn Utzon, a Danish architect, who was only the second person to have his work declared a UNESCO WHS while he was still alive. However, the interiors Utzon had planned were nullified by later government officials, and there were many years of dissention. Utzon was not even invited to the opening. Finally, there was reconciliation, and Utzon was involved in redesigning some of the interiors. He was also awarded the Order of Australia and similar honors.

The name of the building is a misnomer, but that is due to later changes to Utzon’s plans. The Sydney Opera House is actually a multi-venue performing arts center, of which the largest space, the triple shells shown here on the right, next to Circular Quay, is a Concert Hall. The actual Opera House is the smaller triple-shell venue to the left, but the concert hall was to originally have been the opera house (hence the overall name), leaving the present opera house not large enough for the biggest operas. This daytime view from the Cove side emphasizes the Concert Hall.

Finally, in this air view to the southwest, the two points of land around Circular Quay can easily be distinguished. The low-lying Rocks neighborhood is along Circular Quay West, and without historic preservation, would today consist of the high-rises south of the ferry wharves.

Wahroonga   On the trip to Antarctica in 2006, I was seated one evening on the Explorer II along with a party of five Australians. We got along fabulously well that evening, as I wrote (2006/15 Day 2), and have remained in touch since. When I announced my trip to Australia hoping to meet all five, it turned out that we are all big travelers, and John was bothered that he’d be off to Singapore and Europe, and Janet and Peter would be in the North Atlantic. But fortunately, Ruth and Neil, although themselves recently back from Sweden, would be in town, and we’d get together for dinner at their home in Wahroonga, a suburb to the north of Sydney. They’d also invite another traveler/traveller, Maureen.

I caught a late-afternoon train at Wynyard which then went over the Harbour Bridge on the half-hour’s trip north. As I later told Ruth & Neil, I was glad I wasn’t looking for places on the rail route such as Lindfield, Gordon, or Chatswood, but instead for such ur-Australian names as Turramurra, Warrawee, and Wahroonga, their stop. They met me at the station, we first stopped for a coffee, and then walked some 20 minutes through the leafy roads of this upscale neighborhood.

It was a delightful evening of an enjoyable dinner and heavily travel-related conversation. Ruth was aware my birthday was five days hence, and had prepared a chocolate cake afterwards. But a number of special things happened, all surprises.

Given the season, it had crossed my mind that it would be nice to sit in front of a fire, but didn’t really expect it, yet shortly after arrival, Neil had a roaring fire of Australian hardwoods going.

In the UK, I’ve enjoyed the yeast spread Marmite, and have had it at home as well, but I was also well aware that Australians are fiercely loyal to their own yeast spread served on buttered toast, Vegemite, so at the beginning of the evening, I asked if Ruth had some Vegemite in the house I could taste. As it turned out, one of the appetizers on the coffee table right in front of me that she’d prepared was Vegemite-based. And in addition, it came out in conversation that Maureen, who had also been in education, had also taught German.

Earlier, John had sent me a special message while I was at Raffles, saying that it was particularly distressing that he would be in Singapore just the week after I was there, but our paths wouldn’t cross there any more than in Australia.

And then it was quite a surprise to also hear from Peter and Janet. The phone rang after dinner, and here they were phoning, not only all the way from Iceland, but from a ship located at that moment in a fjord in NW Iceland. They offered both Welcome to Australia Greetings (via Iceland) and Birthday Greetings. It’s hard to think of more unusual circumstances than these. It was 9:15 in the evening in Sydney/Wahroonga and 11:15 in the morning in Iceland. It was a most unusual and pleasant evening.

My third day in Sydney was less active. That was the day I had the doctor come to the hotel room, and then I went out for a trip to Manly. At the eastern, ocean end of Sydney Harbour are two small peninsulas that attempt to enclose the harbor, but do not succeed, North Head and South Head. North Head is connected by a small isthmus to the rest of the mainland, and the Manly ferry from Circular Quay lands at that isthmus on the Harbour side. There’s a few blocks’ walk along The Corso, and then you arrive at the crescent of Manly Beach along the Pacific. The pedestrian mall of The Corso was very pleasant, with restored heritage buildings along the way, including an Art Deco 1926 hotel currently under repair. The beach itself had many surfers in wet suits out in the water, and there was a good number of people on blankets on the beach, but all were fully dressed, given the winter weather.

Blue Mountains   One place I’d wanted to be sure not to miss were the Blue Mountains 1 ½ hours west of Sydney, yet still bordering on its metropolitan area, and I’d arranged for a tour that included some other sights on the way back. It was a small-group tour on a small bus, and we turned out to be 14, from New Zealand, Canada, Taiwan, and Switzerland. I was the only American.

The Blue Mountains surround the mountain town of Katoomba which is at 1010 m (3314 ft), but a visit to these mountains, which have many gorges, centers on the Jamison Valley, formerly exploited in the 1880’s for coal, but now part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It was visited by Charles Darwin in 1836. The mountains are heavily forested by eucalypts, which is what causes the characteristic blue haze, visible in the picture. Eucalyptus oil from the trees evaporates into the air, and when light strikes these droplets they appear as haze. On one side of the Jamison Valley is the most famous icon of the area, the triple rock formation known as the Three Sisters.

The usual way to go down into Jamison Valley is via a private enterprise (extra fee) that runs three “rides”. One starts by horizontally crossing an arm of the Jamison Valley on the so-called Scenic Skyway, a glass-bottomed aerial cable car offering views straight down into the valley. You then descend on what had been used to transport coal as part of the mining tramway system, but which now transports people, the Scenic Railway, which Guinness lists as the steepest (cable) railway in the world at 52° maximum within a rock tunnel passed through. It descends 415 m (1361 ft) for a vertical drop of 250 m (820 ft). (The Pilatusbahn in Switzerland [2008/14] at 48° is the steepest cog railway.) After a forest walk on boardwalks in the valley, one returns via the Scenic Cableway, the steepest aerial cable car in Australia, which rises at an angle 300m (984 ft) above the valley floor. (I noticed that both the Skyway and Cableway were Swiss-built.) Here’s the entire railway descent into the valley. They really do play that music as you enter the tunnel segment.

Featherdale Wildlife Park   A stop on the way back to Sydney was a major highpoint. The Featherdale Wildlife Park is privately owned and claims to have 2000 animals, but it started, as the name implies, as a bird sanctuary, so a lot of those animals are avian. It’s quite compact, which is part of its charm. Most of the open enclosures are just hip-high, but animals are also walking about in the pathways with you, so you really have a feeling of being inside this world and not outside it.

There are many birds in large cages, but a falcon was on the ground in a pathway working on a piece of meat. There was a farmyard enclosure with domestic animals. There was a snake house, a crocodile in a pool, a peacock, and an enclosure with pelicans. A few egrets were walking about, and I loved watching the freely-roaming ibis, which I later learned was the Australian white ibis. I just love that ibis beak. These ibis roam freely in urban areas, and later in Anzac Square in Brisbane they were walking about freely, much larger (chicken-sized) than the local pigeons. It was also amusing, since I was staying at the Ibis Hotel in Brisbane, part of the chain I’d stayed at also last year in Wellington.

But I’m leaving the best for the last. Not only within enclosures, but also in the pathways were the kangaroos. The ones there were of the smaller Eastern Grey variety, smaller than the reds. They were easy to pet. There were also plenty of wallabies, which remind one of kangaroos. (I am not in a position to explain these differences--look them up yourself: kangaroo/wallaby; crocodile/alligator; hare/rabbit.) However, right on the pathway, a wallaby leaned back and a rather large baby scrambled out of her pouch. (I know a kangaroo baby is a joey; if that’s the case with a wallaby as well, then it was a joey.)

There was a large area with open enclosures for koalas, but almost all were sleeping, and looked like this (they have a low metabolism and sleep most of the day). A guard was with one koala in a branch out on the pathway on display and looked exactly like the sleeping one. It’s amazing they don’t fall out of the trees. You’re not allowed to pick them up, since that scares them, but you can pet them. It’s like petting a furry basketball, since it’s about that size.

Confined to an enclosure, since it can be dangerous, was a cassowary, the third tallest bird after the ostrich and emu, and second heaviest. Their kick can disembowel.

The emus were everywhere, behind enclosures and with you in the pathways. It’s the largest bird native to Australia (there are no ostriches here). It’s flightless, and can reach up to 2m (6.6 ft), which is formidable when one walks past you on the pathway. One took a particular interest in the thick laces on my Docksides shoes and started pecking. Those laces must have looked juicy.

The wombats were mostly sleeping in logs in their enclosures. They are short-tailed, and about 1 m (39 in) long.

We had been told that 4 PM was feeding time in the enclosure for the Tasmanian devil, which is the size of a very stocky and muscular small dog. It’s grip on the bone the keeper was holding onto was formidable, and the keeper was able to pick up the devil off the ground as it maintained its grip. Of course we cannot avoid at this point also referring to the place we all first heard of Tasmanian devils, as Taz, the character in Looney Tunes.

When I came to the dingo enclosure, I expected to see something more wolf-like, but they just seemed like large dogs. Their feeding schedule was posted in fair dinkum Aussie style: “Tucker Time in the Dingo Den”.

And finally we come to the echidna, which, once again, is pronounced i.KID.na. I had written (2010/8) about how my elementary school class on a field trip had failed to see either the platypus or echidna on special exhibition at the Bronx Zoo, because they failed to show themselves. Well, I finally saw my echidna, which is hedgehog-like or porcupine-like, and which must be proud of that frosting on its quills. Cute little guys. There were no platypuses at Featherdale, since few places have them on display. To see whether I finally eradicated totally, on their home ground, both halves of the childhood echidna/platypus disappointment, see below.

The other thing about the Blue Mountains tour was that they didn’t bring you back to Sydney at all, but instead dropped you off way up on the Paramatta River for a catamaran ferry trip back. It was a late wintry afternoon, and a nice ride as the sun set. By the time we got back to Circular Quay, it was dark and I got to see the Opera House illuminated by night. Combining this ride with the Manly trip, I’d sailed Sydney Harbour end-to-end.

Canberra   The very next day I’d put aside to go to Canberra, the national capital. I’d wanted to do it myself by rail, but the schedule just didn’t work out well, so I’d signed up with my small-group tour company. However, what I found out was this. In high season, each of several tour companies can completely fill a bus, but in this off season, no one can come near that, so they consolidate their sign-ups. I ended up on a huge Gray Line bus for a trip with only 12 people, two fewer than to the Blue Mountains. These people were from Italy, Germany, Slovakia, and the Philippines. I was again the only American. Although I’d enjoyed some nice conversations with people the day before, this group was not particularly conversational. While the Blue Mountains trip had lasted some eleven hours, it had been broken up with later stops. The drive to Canberra itself was three hours each way (broken up by tea going and a dinner stop returning, to say nothing about dozing time), so the whole day came to some 13 hours. Along the road going, blended in with the deep green shrubbery, were bright yellow trees that the driver identified as wattle. Since that sounded strange, I later checked online to find out that wattle is the Australian term for an acacia tree. Still, the bright yellow splashes appearing along the road as Spring was around the corner reminded me how we note the bright yellow forsythia along the road just as Spring arrives.

Canberra has a few hundred thousand people, and is Australia’s largest inland city. It’s up at 571 m (1873 ft), so as the sun started to go down, jackets got zipped up. It’s a planned city, the design of Canberra having fallen in a 1911 competition to a Chicago architect, Walter Burley Griffin and his wife, who had both been influenced by the garden city movement of 1898, which included careful planning and greenbelts. (Areas in the US influenced by this movement include the well-known Cleveland suburb of Shaker Heights, and, in New York, the three Queens neighborhoods of Sunnyside, Jackson Heights, and Forest Hills Gardens, and, quite obviously, the city of Garden City on Long Island.) The Griffins designed a wheel-and-spoke pattern. Note in particular the water axis formed by the artificial Lake Burley Griffin and the parliamentary axis starting, at the upper right, with Mount Ainslie, the Australian War Memorial below it, then down Anzac Parade to the Old Parliament House (just below the word “Parkes”) to Parliament House at the top of the hill. This is what those two axes look from our first stop at the top of Mount Ainslie at 846 m (2776 ft).

We drove through residential areas, along the lake, past the white Old Parliament House (now offices), and through the embassy area behind Parliament House, and the garden city style was evident. (The Parliament in Melbourne had been used from 1901-1927, then Old Parliament from 1927-1988, when Parliament House was ready for use.) Our two major destinations were the two buildings at either end of the parliamentary axis.

Parliament House As the eye swings up the eucalyptus-covered drives from classical-styled Old Parliament House, the modern Parliament House (Photo by jjron) comes into view (this is a wide-angle shot, so you may have to move the picture to see it all). We walked from the bus up these slopes, and, although when I tried smelling a eucalyptus leaf in the Blue Mountains I’d gotten no satisfactory results, when I swiped a small leaf cluster here from an overhanging branch and crushed a leaf, the wonderful eucalyptus scent came through. I kept the leaves in my pocket all the way back to the hotel that evening and kept on sampling a leaf at will.

It was at Parliament House that I met the most interesting person of the day. The driver had said that since it was Monday, “Bernie” would be our guide, which sounded innocuous enough, and when Bernie met us on the walk up to the main plaza, he turned out to be an elderly gentleman with a walking stick. But then he interviewed all of us and presented himself, and he and I began to get along quite well, since we two were on the same wavelength. He mentioned his full name, and said he’d taught at Chicago, Saskatchewan, and Dalhousie in Halifax, so I knew he was a professor. His field was science, specifically dentistry. By the end of the visit, he and I had exchanged business cards, and he turned out to be Dr Bernard Lilienthal, with so many degrees after his name that he used up the whole alphabet. His PhD was from Oxford, and he confessed to me that some of his writings have become must-read classics in the dentistry field. The back of his card listed all the committees and organizations he’d chaired. “Bernie” was no slouch, but in retirement, he worked to show people Canberra.

I very much liked Parliament House. It’s an excellent example of contemporary architecture, with the best woods, the best carpets and tapestries, tilework and stonework. Bernie showed us around to all the venues, including the House of Representatives and the Senate. While the rest of the group showed mild interest, I was very interested and asked lots of questions, and he and I developed an immediate rapport. I knew that Parliament House had one of the four known versions of Magna Carta, and asked if we’d see it. He was impressed I knew it was there, and, when he pointed it out in the Great Hall, no one else came over to look. As he described the House of Representatives as we looked down on it, I commented that it seemed to me that it’s exactly set up like the House of Commons in the UK, overseen by a Speaker, but uses American terminology for naming it (similarly, the other house, much more powerful than the House of Lords, is the Senate, overseen by a President). At one point, when Bernie was gesticulating, he shoved his stick into my hand to hold, so I’d apparently become his helper. When he was wondering aloud if he’d discussed everything in the House of Representatives, I asked where the mace was. I asked because I wanted to know, but it did seem to impress him. He’d forgotten to tell that the mace, representing the State, must be present on the table if any legislation is to have any legality. Bernie was a great character, we got along famously, and it made the visit to Parliament all the more memorable.

Australian War Memorial The last stop of the day was the Australian War Memorial, which was originally meant to commemorate just the Great War, and notably Gallipoli, but which now commemorates all war dead. The memorial itself was all I’d expected. At the far end of the pool is an eternal flame in the water, the far structure has the Unknown Soldier of WWI, and the two side galleries are a Hall of Memory, listing names of war dead in a Roll of Honour, many with poppies inserted beside them. If things had been left at that, I’d have been quite satisfied.

But Bernie had warned me, and he was right. Below the simple memorial structures on the surface, on the lower level and underground behind it, is what I will call a War Museum, perhaps a Military Museum. Such a thing might have value, but it does not belong attached to a memorial. The history part of this museum is OK, but down below that have a reenactment of a military scene, with flashing lights, helicopters overhead, and booming mortars. Bernie suggested it glorifies war, and I agree with him. The location of this museum in my opinion (and apparently in Bernie’s) is not consistent with the national shrine above.

Leaving Canberra with the rays of the setting sun we saw wild kangaroos off in a field to the side of the road. It brought to mind immediately Cape Town, where seeing wild zebras on the side of Table Mountain was also quite a normal event.

Sydney Aquarium   On my last partial day, my train left at 4:10, and the Westin had readily offered me a checkout as late as 4:00. I used the whole morning to finish writing and posting Thailand, but would I have time to do anything else? Someone at Featherdale had told me that platypuses are on exhibit at the Sydney Aquarium, which was a place that hadn’t been on my agenda. I could just have enough time to get to see one.

It was about a 15-minute walk to Darling Harbour and the Sydney Aquarium, but I was still dubious. If platypuses tend to hide in burrows, which was my problem years ago, why would I bother spending the hefty admission fee to the aquarium? Well, one of the young ladies at the front desk was very accommodating. Apparently the platypuses are right near the entrance, so she darted inside, said the platypus was up and about, and rushed a ticket into my hand. It was very nice of her.

So I completed the echidna/platypus cycle and saw my platypus, often called a duck-billed platypus, even though there is only one species. Also, I now understand why two seemingly different Australian mammals were on exhibit at the same time all those years ago. The echidna and the platypus are related, and belong to their own unique order called monotremes, which are the only mammals to lay eggs. The platypus reminds me of a small beaver to some extent, especially with that flat tail. The average male is 50 cm (20 in) long, the average female 43 cm (17 in). I had pictured a platypus more on land, but they are semi-aquatic, and this one (I understand there are others at the aquarium) was in the bottom of a large tank with fish. It was burrowing under some roots, then zipping up to the water’s surface. Its range covers the coastal areas of the three states of eastern Australia, plus Tasmania, although the range no longer includes South Australia. The front feet are well-webbed for swimming; the hind suited for digging. The male has ankle spurs on its hind feet that emit an incapacitating venom. The platypus is the animal emblem of New South Wales, and appears on the reverse of the 20-cent coin. This short video shows pretty much the platypus as I saw it in the tank.

Once I was at the aquarium, I was certainly going to look at the rest. Aside from the fish you’d expect, there were three exhibits I found particularly interesting. The Little Penguin, which the Australians call a Fairy Penguin, is the smallest species of penguin at 43 cm (16 in) tall, and has a range covering the entire southern Australian coast from Perth to Brisbane, plus all of Tasmania and New Zealand. The dugong tank had several of this species similar to the manatee, to which it’s related, a major visible difference being that the manatee has a shovel-like tail, but the dugong has a horizontal fish-like tail that looks like two fins. Finally, given the world-wide decline in shark populations, the Sydney Aquarium has a major shark breeding program. There was a display of shark egg cases, that were startling in their appearance. They’re black, and screw-shaped to help them stay fastened to the sea floor during gestation. In addition, the aquarium has a huge shark tank with two glass tunnels along the bottom for visitors to walk through and be under and between the sharks. There was also a sting ray there, which reminded me of Steve Irwin.

I still had plenty of time to get to Sydney Central to catch my Sydney-Brisbane XPT (Express Passenger Train). The sleeping car compartment was simple, with toilets at the end of the corridor, but comfortable. Fortunately, no one occupied the upper berth, so I had my privacy. Otherwise, the setup wasn’t as good as in the overnight train in Japan last year, where there were curtains for privacy. I’d have had to have slept in my clothes if someone else had been there. We’ll see how it goes later on the Melbourne XPT. After dinner (not included) I bought some ANZAC biscuits in the buffet car. I’ve had some almost every day I’ve been here. The next morning I thought about Wallangarra on the old line, where passengers had to change trains years ago because of the break of gauge. When they brought the (included) breakfast I was asked if I wanted jam or Vegemite on my toast, so I had my first Vegemite breakfast. On arrival at Roma Street Station in Brisbane, I noticed that the track we were on was dual-gauge, and of the four-track variety (two narrow inside two standard), but the next track over was also dual gauge, but three tracks, one being common to both gauges. The train driver/engineer agreed with me that it was odd.

Brisbane   It was another early arrival, just after dawn on the actual date of my birthday, but this time the hotel, very near Roma Street Station, had been full the night before and there was no early access to my room, so I checked in, left the bag, and started my walk in the downtown area. Here there are male and female street names, no doubt of royalty, where E-W there’s William, George, Albert, Edward, and N-S there’s Ann, Adelaide, Queen, Elizabeth, and more. There are few major landmarks in Brisbane, which I liked a lot, so months before I downloaded a walking tour the town publishes online and spent some five hours doing it, starting at the Queen Street Mall, a pedestrian area. Of greatest interest were the handsome heritage buildings such as the town hall, and around ANZAC Square (where I saw the many ibis), and government buildings now recycled to other uses. I crossed over the Brisbane river on the Goodwill Pedestrian Bridge to the South Bank Parklands, which were particularly attractive, returning upstream via the Victoria Bridge. This aereal view of Brisbane gives an idea of how winding the Brisbane River is, and how it defines the city. Note the tall buildings of the central business district in that one large bend in the river, which points due south to the upper left. Just above that you can see the two smaller bridges I used to cross the river. Toward the upper right are the tracks leading in to the Roma Street Station about in the reddish area. After my long walk, to relax I got an off-peak day pass on the CityCat catamaran river ferry and rode it to both ends of its route, upstream and downstream, which took a couple of more hours, before finally checking in to my room.

The next day in the early afternoon I left Brisbane for Cairns on the (narrow-gauge) overnight Sunlander, which included the upscale Queenslander Service and all meals. The room was particularly comfortable (although toilets were still at the end of the corridor), with the rather unique feature of an entry door that locks with a key you carry with you. A particularly nice feature was a spray of live Cooktown orchids in a vase, the Queensland state flower. Punch was provided in the private lounge separate from the rest of the train (as was our diner and the sleepers) and shortly thereafter, high tea was served in the dining car. The dinner menu, with several choices, was quite comprehensive. The next day included breakfast, lunch, and an early light supper. Before supper the guitarist in the lounge car, who yesterday had played a toned-down version of Waltzing Matilda, started playing Peter Allen’s Tenterfield Saddler. I then asked him to continue with Allen’s I Still Call Australia Home, and then Slim Dusty’s A Pub with no Beer. After he did a lot of other songs, for balance, I asked for John Denver, and he did Country Roads. I enjoyed hearing about West Virginia while in Queensland. I asked him if he knew, quite appropriately, Slim Dusty’s train songs, Sunlander and Indian Pacific. He said he’d been trying to find the words, but couldn’t. I suggested he check YouTube, as I had, or just look at the Travelanguist website to hear them and copy the words. After a light supper, we had an early evening arrival in Cairns, but still in winter’s darkness.