Mike and Pat and I caught the free “City Circle” tram to revisit some sights from yesterday’s “official” tour, then wandered the area near our hotel. There’s a beautiful garden area around the Cathedral of Saint Patrick (Catholic) and the Cathedral of St. Peter (Anglican). Walking back to the hotel, we passed through a pretty little park surrounding a statue of Great Britain’s hero of the Sudan, Gordon. It was a touching monument to a fallen hero.
Back at the hotel, we went into the food court below and had lunch with hundreds of office workers and other tourists. The area is reminiscent of CNN Center where Mike once spent lots of time when we lived in Atlanta. If you couldn’t hear the accents, you could imagine yourself in any American city center.
Our tour to see the Penguin Parade on Phillip Island began with a trip through the countryside east of Melbourne. Picking up travelers from other hotels and the Federation Square, our driver and guide, Brendan, began by describing the sports venues in town as we passed them. He professed himself to be “in a good mood” because he’d had his house to himself on Sunday, watched both the Grand Prix and Australian rules football on TV with a couple of beers AND his team, the Collingwood Magpies, won. It’s good to begin with a happy guide, eh?
The trip went from city to suburb to farmland fairly quickly as we made our way down to the coast. First stop was just outside the village of Koo Wee Rup at Warrook Farm. Once again, this working farm has augmented its income with an “Australian animal experience.” Just inside the gate, we met Stewart and Walley, the wombats. Stewart seemed to be pouting as Walley was fed a rather large carrot. Signs warned that “Wombats will bite,” but we were encouraged to rub Walley’s head while he was pretty focused on that carrot. His fur is very thick and not soft.
Hating to leave the cute animals behind, especially the wombats for me, we went into the “lodge” to wash hands and have a drink. Pat had what was billed as a scone, but seemed more like our biscuits.
Off again in the coach, we passed through more farmland toward Phillip Island. Brendan treated us to a DVD about the penguins. Just the way he said “DVD” with that great Down Under accent made the trip worthwhile!
As we came onto Phillip Island, we saw signs never to be seen in other countries, warning of kangaroos on the roads at dusk and “watch for koalas in the road.” When we stopped at the local nature center were koalas are being protected, we found out that cars have been the death of many of the wild koalas that once lived here. We were able to see koalas here high up in the eucalyptus trees as they behave in nature, rather than in the lower habitats we’ve seen in wildlife parks elsewhere.
A ranger told us that koalas are plentiful nearby on French Island. That island does not have a bridge to the mainland, thus doesn’t attract the thousands of folks who come to Phillip Island summers and holidays. Unfortunately, as we have seen with the wild horses on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, cars and wild animals don’t mix well. The animals always seem to be the losers. While getting off the bus at the nature center, I befriended Irma from Sri Lanka since she seemed to need help getting off. (More later about this charmer)
Next up was an area called “the Nobbies.” There’s a big rock formation just off ashore with another not far out in Bass Strait beyond it. The farthest one is called Seal Rock where you can often see Australian fur seals basking. They were apparently on holiday themselves this late afternoon as none was visible to us.
What were visible, just a bit, were two penguins under the boardwalk at the Nobbies. Our driver, who prefaced his comment with “don’t shoot the messenger,” had just informed us there’s to be no photography at the Penguin Parade.
This announcement was met with the groans and muttered curses that might be expected by travelers with cameras around the necks. But Brendan, clever devil that he is, had let us know there might be penguins under the boardwalk here to be photographed.
thrilled with ocean views on one side of the road and both wild kangaroos and wallabies noshing all across the landscape. We actually saw one fellow bounding away from some overzealous camera crazies. Brendan, with a mischievous grin on his face, warned everyone that there are snakes here and they should be careful. We have, indeed, seen numerous posters warning that copperheads live here, “our shy friends,” according to the posters that warn there is no antivenin. With my snake phobia, I could only be amused at Brendan’s effort to unnerve the adventurous because I was watching from inside the coach!
We headed back to the village of Cowes, beautifully situated on a sloping coastline of the island with two-hued fir trees adorning the main street of small shops and restaurants. This setting reminded me of the Monterey Peninsula in California in some ways. We had supper at an Italian restaurant overlooking the water. It was called “Isola de Capri” and was recommended by our driver. For leading us to their very good food and ambience, he was rewarded with a free bottle of wine. We paid for our nice bottle of Pepperjack Shiraz and enjoyed every drop.
We shared our dinner table with Irma from Sri Lanka. She and Pat had bonded as my sweet sister became her shepherd, making sure that she had someone to hold onto as she walked about. Irma told us she is 88, traveling alone to Australia to meet great-grandchildren she’s not yet seen. Her four children, she said, have forbidden her to travel from where she lives in Colombo, but she balked and set off alone to visit them in Australia and New Zealand. She is a role model for us all, independent and alert, while admitting to needing to “ask for help along the way.”
Finally it was time for us to go to the Penguin Parade. We had arranged for this during the planning process for the trip. Our special package included front-row seats on little fold-out seats on the beach in front of the “grandstands” where most visitors sit. We also had a ranger for our small group and were on headsets to hear her commentary throughout.
These smallest of the penguin family, once known as “fairy penguins,” but now called “little penguins,” come back at twilight each evening to this particular beach on Phillip Island after swimming out early each morning to catch the fish they eat. In numbers that differ, depending on the seasons or their success in finding fish or any number of factors, there might be hundreds or just a few to be seen.
In our case, there were very few to be seen, but it was worth our trip. Molting season is approaching, so they are fattening themselves to spend about 17 days in their burrows here on the island while the old feathers fall out and the new ones come in. Since they can’t swim while molting because they would get too cold in the water, they fill up on fish, then fast.
Watching these little birds, some looking as if they had swallowed softballs, toddle out of the water and waddle up the beach was a treat. They move along for a few minutes, usually in groups of two or three for company, then rest for a few minutes before continuing up the well-worn paths to the burrows. When they tire, sometimes they roll forward onto their round tummies and rock slightly. They are both comical and endearing.
The Phillips Island Penguin Centre is designed to protect this colony and does a good job. No photography is allowed because the flashes could hurt their eyes permanently causing them to be unable to find fish and, thus, die. There are boardwalks raised up near their nightly pathways and lighting from a yellow spectrum that these birds can’t see, so aren’t bothered by. This allows the spectators to see the birds up close. It is a privilege and a delight to share in their lives for this brief time.
While we had hoped to see more birds crossing the beach in their parade, we couldn’t really be disappointed because we were lucky enough to see them at all. Part of the joy of this trip Down Under has been the interaction with nature. Folks here exploit their unique animal experiences, but do so with respect. There are strict rules about what is acceptable and some practices, like “cuddling koalas,” that were once pursued, are now discouraged. Score one for the animals!
As I write this, we’re on the flight to Alice Springs in the Northern Territory, described for us as “like Arizona without the cactus.” It’s supposed to be 90 degrees there today and, due to recent rains that have relieved the usual drought conditions somewhat, we’re supposed to see water in the rivers and more greenery than normal. As I look out the plane window, the scene is an endless sea of red soil with occasional spots of green.
Since we didn’t arrive back at our hotel until 11 o’clock last night and had to “stir the possum” at 4:30 this morning, I didn’t begin to write until just before we departed. Mike uploaded his photos at the hotel quickly so that he could sort through them on the plane as we share the laptop back and forth. We fell so lucky to have this way of tracking our trip for those who are following us and for our future enjoyment, as well.
In case you’re wondering, “stir the possum” was the phrase our guide used yesterday that means “wake up.” It’s one of hundreds of words and phrases reflecting the colorful language we find here. Almost hourly we see a sign that amuses us (Brekky for the Littlies at McDonalds, for instance) or hear something that we can’t translate without asking.
This morning it was suggested that we might need to purchase a “fly net” in Alice Springs. We had to ask, of course, only to discover that it’s a mesh net to wear over your face when the flies are bad, as they are except when it’s too windy or too cold or raining. Apparently the prevalence of beef cattle produces volumes of cattle dung, breeding flies in volume, as well. The flies can be “quite pesky,” going after sources of water in eyes and mouth and even up your nose! We’ll see what welcome Alice Springs has in store for us soon.
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