Sexy blancmange

How very uncheesy. Ah well, it was fun. For the record, Uluru is a sexy blancmange from a distance and a lot bloody bigger than you expect up close (took us 1 1/2 hours to walk round it). We got both the geological and Aboriginal explanations for its creation, must say the locals' version is a lot more fun - involved a mud fight and waggling bottoms (I was called upon to act this out with the tour guide, a highlight). We also took in the Olgas, a stunning group of 36 sandstone formations a few miles away. For some reason they reminded me of pregnant bellies. Hmm...

Up in the Top End now following a 22-hour Greyhound ride from Alice; they certainly don't skimp on the miles here. Darwin could take on Bangkok in the humidity stakes, everyone's got that slightly damp look I'd forgotten about. Palm trees everywhere. Will hang out here for a little while I think, partly in an effort to restrain spending, partly cos the weather isn't conducive to doing too much other than reclining with a cold one. Speaking of which... ta ta for now.

Bloody hot mate

No need to worry about snow anymore; got to Alice Springs, bang in the middle of Oz, yesterday after 2 days on a smelly bus from Adelaide and it's roasting. Crusty clothes, minging flip-flops and dehydration are the concern now.
Adelaide's a pleasant place, if a bit unspectacular - elegantly laid out in a grid system (as in Melbourne), the North Terrace is probably the poshest area and is home to the university (wandered briefly round campus feeling like I'd turned the clock back 5 years and that term paper was due in tomorrow), state parliament, art gallery and museum of South Australia. It's also next to the Botanical Gardens, which were lovely (see photos on Ringo anyone who's interested). Day after that I went on one of the wine tours that are pretty much de rigeur for any visitor to Adelaide; one I went on was to Barossa Valley. Driven around by the affable Uwe, we had tastings at 4 different vineyards and discovered after the first couple of glasses our inner wine ponces - 'mmm, I'm getting just the cheekiest hint of pencil shavings under that bold plumminess' etc etc - came out all too easily. Before we made total idiots of ourselves, Uwe cooked us up a pretty stonking BBQ to soak up some of the booze. Still a pretty cheery affair though as you'd imagine and the head was thumping on Saturday morning.
After that, it's been over a thousand miles on the road to get here. The landscape flat as a pancake for the most part and hostile and beautiful at the same time - parched, red earth broken up by the odd bit of scrub that somehow manages to squeeze a drop of moisture from the soil. Enormous salt flats in the distance: hills in the centre of what used to be a lake looking like they're floating in air. We stayed overnight in Coober Pedy, the 'opal mining centre of the world' - around the place are 250,000 shafts where people have dug and dynamited to try and find some of it; occasionally people stumble across a million-dollar find, more often they stumble over one of the holes and fall in. Another hazard is the climate - the combination of 35+ degree temperatures during the day and freezing conditions at night is so fierce that some people have made their homes underground, carving caves into the side of hills or into the earth. We slept in a hostel that was built similarly; must say for a first night in a cave it wasn't bad at all - the temperature was a constant 22 degrees or so, could see their point.
And so after another 9 hours' driving (well, being driven anyway) to here. Off to Uluru (Ayers Rock - briefly worried whether I could afford it but it would be a bit ridiculous to come all the way here just for Alice S. - doesn't seem to be too much to do here other than go on tours) on Wednesday, after that another great slog up to Darwin.
Right, now for a cool drink and the swimming pool...

C....c...c...cold...

Hobart, sunlight and temperatures over 5 degrees seem a long time ago now; it's something of an effort just to get my fingers to flex enough to type. Nonetheless, and not even being bloody-minded, I'm having a good time. In Cradle Mountain national park in Tassie's northwest; have stayed here and at Lake St Clair at the southern end of the park over the last few days, doing walks every day, seeing gorgeous scenery - craggy, snow-dusted peaks (first snow I've seen for 18 months); dark, chillingly deep lakes; rain-sodden, moss-coated forests at the lakeside and elsewhere the tree-carpeted valleys you can see all over this state. The rest of Oz has had major drought problems for the last 2 years; you could safely say Tasmanians don't have too much to worry about in that regard. Back to the mainland in a few days to bid farewell to friends old and new, then like the Pet Shop Boys I'm going West...