Melbourne to Fremantle

February is almost gone.  Where did it go?

In Melbourne we spend the morning driving to the local mountains and taking a short ride on the Puffing Billy steam train.  This is a great opportunity for a photo with Flat Billy, our grandson’s geography assignment.  (Send Flat Billy with your relatives and get pictures—it is second grade geography.)  The best part of the trip is the stop at the parrot place—I don’t know what to call it.  There is a restaurant and free seed to feed the birds which are not caged so it’s not a zoo and doesn’t seem to be a sanctuary because it is very commercial.

After twisting our brains around that concept, we leave the bus in the center of town and visit the art museums which have nice collections, nicely mounted.  We probably should have spent the day here for we never get to the aboriginal art which was one of our targets, but we must catch the shuttle bus to the ship.  Huge line for the bus, but three buses quickly appear and hopefully more are coming for those left behind. 

Tonight there is a local photo project.  Children are taking pictures at the same time all over, and we are encouraged to join in.  The school children will all be taking flash pictures of us from the shore, and we are to take pictures of them at the same time.  The ship will sound its horn to signal the flash fest.  The results should be peculiar, but why not?

Friday, February 25, 2011

No good pictures of the great flash project of course.  Timing is everything and almost impossible to manage.  However, the shore looked as if it was full of fireflies, and that was pleasant. 

Today my cough is definitely better, but John is starting in.  And the cough barks around the ship from time to time

Today’s rumor is that the visits to Arab ports are being cancelled, and we are going around the Cape of Good Hope. 

Today’s rumor is canceled.  The concierge says there is no way Cunard will reschedule

Which gets me to the rest of the world which seems to have fallen apart since we went on vacation.  We are very, very insulated here with abbreviated “newspapers” giving brief glimpses of what is going on.  The spring (or fall depending on your viewpoint) floods in Australia are distant memories.  We just missed the earthquake in New Zealand.  The news of disruption in the Middle East comes in dribs and drabs.  We are not unsympathetic but obviously have nothing to add to the discussion beyond regret for human suffering wherever it is.  The mess in Wisconsin is depressing, but we can do nothing.  I fear for America but try not to think about it.

Monday, February 28, 2011 

This is the last of three quiet sea days.  Then Fremantle and Perth, then a long string of sea days until we arrive at  Borneo?

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

Fremantle is the port that serves Perth, the largest city in Western Australia, which claims to be the world’s most isolated city (some claim Honolulu but Honolulu is on an island, etc.)  Anyway it’s a long way to anyplace else you are likely to have heard of.  The state of Western Australia covers about a third of Australia.  WA, as it is locally known, has suffered from terrible drought in recent years and currently is suffering the longest series of days over 30 degrees Celsius (or maybe 86 Fahrenheit) in its history.  Today it seems to be about 100 by the Haney guessing system.  The day before we arrived there was a terrible storm which produced electrical outages, but we learned about that later.

In retrospect it was a mistake but we signed up for a tour—shouldn’t do that in English-speaking countries, at least not one that lasts the whole day.  You miss too much in town including the drug stores.  We took a bus tour to drive through Perth and to the War Memorial which gives a splendid view of Perth and had the best gift shop I have seen but we had no time to shop.  We then went for a wine-tasting but piled out of the bus to be told that there would be no tasting, and when someone said, “Then why are we here?” The response was, “I have no idea; I called the company two hours ago.”  Back to the buses.

It seems that the storm I mentioned blitzed their electricity and they did not want us around in the dark.   A few phone calls and we were at our lunch spot early, but they were ready for us with a substitute wine tasting a few miles away after the lunch.  Next a boat ride to town and a bus ride to the boat.  Given that it was well above ninety, it was a gentle and relatively peaceful day with a good guide and some interesting information.

On the way to the boat, we were given purple flags to wave at the sail away, reason unknown.  I was told last night it had something to do for charity, but there were not raising money that I could see.  Just before the gangplank was a pile of flags people had decided they did not want to wave, but many kept their flags.  The sail away coincided with our dinner hour so we were there (God forbid we should miss a meal).

  It seems that sheep shipped to the Middle East must be shipped alive so that butchering can be supervised there.  We were told that the crew was kept prisoner and had not been paid in a year and a half.  Apparently there were fliers in town, and it a local issue.  But John looked at it and only said, “How many sheep can a ship-shape sheep ship sheep if a ship shape sheep ship should ship sheep?”

At dinner we looked out the window to see hundreds and hundreds of people on both sides of the quay and the breakwater waving purple flags.  This morning I was told it was to raise awareness of children’s cancer, and that a ship of child cancer patients was in the harbor alongside us all.