I was looking around in the photo collection (as you do) and I came across these photos of the Grampians in Victoria, Australia. They were taken from the window of my plane and during an average summer. After living in England for four years, what struck me was how dry and yellow everything is!
Have a look and you will see what I mean....
Not a lot of green. This is normal for Australia. it was not a particularly bad summer. Just normal but it is one of the things that drove me to seek out the more verdant vistas of Europe.
I think that there is a teensy haze of green in the middle ground in the photo above. Not sure how that was achieved!
Now I am sure that there will be people who will protest most strongly when I say that I find this landscape unattractive. But I do. I was born here and I went to school in Hamilton at the very foot of the Grampians and whilst the mountain range themselves are quite attractive and hold many of my fondest memories, the landscape is still ugly. I do not pine for the gum trees and the dried up paddocks just waiting to catch fire. I don't know why this is. I have looked at Australia from all different angles and in all different seasons (which mostly look the same anyway) and I just cannot see what people like about it.
Oh well, each to his own I think. I figured that rather than living there and whining every day about it and ruining everyone else's fun, I would leave and go to where I think things look better. And I have! I love Europe and I am as happy as a clam. I love our deciduous trees and I love the mountains in central Europe where there are thick forests right up the mountain side. Bliss!
Words and photos: Debbie von Grabler-Crozier 2014, 2009
On the road to Port Macdonnell in the South East of South Australia is a small house nestled in protective bushland. It is called Dingley Dell and it was the one time home of nineteenth century poet Adam Lindsay Gordon.
Bought by Gordon in 1864, it was to be his home to share with his wife Margaret Park. But never fear, apart from that small anchor to put things into perspective, this is not meant to be a dry history lesson!
I can remember going to Dingley Dell as a child and that it was always fun but this was overshadowed by my Mother's very real fear of snakes. And she had good reason too. The cottage is surrounded by scrubby bushland, the sort beloved by snakes for its wonderful hiding places.
In the last decade or so, much attention in Australia has been given to making everything very indigenous which mainly refers to the erasing of European influences on landscapes. English gardens and tree scapes are particularly in the cross hairs and this is a pity because it is pointless to pretend that the English settlers did not have a very large influence on what was, after all an English colony.
You can see in the photos above and below that the house and gardens have a very European feel. But then, quite charmingly, there are distinctly Australian touches. Only a sense of the history of the house and its owners saves Dingley Dell from being returned to the Australian style.
Even in this very hot climate, the daffodils bravely blossom and their yellows join the wattles and eucalyptus flowers.
No verandahs would have meant that this very small, un-double glazed and un-insulated cottage would have been murderously hot in the Australian summer and cold as ice in the winter. Winters in this part of the country, whilst not being cold enough to snow, certainly feel as though they could. The locals refer to the wind as being 'lazy'. This is a pure Australianism which means that the wind is too idle to go around people - it goes right through! Apt if you have ever felt it!
Yet with all of the English style to the garden, the ubiquitous Australian water tank is present and correct. This small tank was all the water that was available for the house and the garden. And how full it was depended on rainfall from the roof through the year. This was also the only defence against bushfires - in a time before the fire service. That is scary because as you can see, this isn't a large tank at all. English garden plants require much more water than do their Australian cousins so having plants 'from home' was a huge luxury actually. A lawn was just an unpardonable extravagance.
Here are some Australian natives blooming in the garden - and a small critter visiting in a wattle tree.
Banksia and Eucalypts produce very distinctive flowers. Lovely and more muted that the European flora. The very long and thin leaves are particularly well adapted to the conditions in the arid south.
Below a daisy bravely holding its own. Its water needs are far larger than the natives so it has to earn its spot in the garden with pretty flowers.
To be fair, as you can see in the two photos above, the Australian flora offers beautiful diversity and colours every bit as nice as anything else. I guess that the choices just come down to a bit of homesickness and wanting to see familiarity. The daffodils may have been the only sign that the season was changing too. With few if any deciduous trees to indicate the end of summer and then nothing really to show that spring was coming, daffodils and other bulbs are good indicators.
Above is the scrubland beloved of the local snake population. This thick undergrowth is teeming with life and later on, when it has dried out in the summer, it will burn too! This photo was taken in the spring time. Remember the size of the lone water tank - that water would not have had a chance here in a serious fire.
Dingley Dell is lovely and worth turning off the main road to explore. But, once again, it is car territory. Remotely located, it is impossible to reach without a car and there are no public transport links at all. Because it is 30 minutes drive from Mount Gambier, it is not an option for walking or biking either.
Photos and words by Debbie von Grabler-Crozier 2009, 2014
A short walk from my Uncle's old apartment in Heimfeld is a little forest where I remember walking and tobogganing when I was a child. This little wood in Hamburg holds some really fond memories for me and a couple of years ago I visited it again as an adult.
The first thing that I noticed was how small it actually was! Maybe some parts have been cleared away but I was immediately struck by the fact that I could see right through it. All of the things that I remember are still there but because I am so much bigger now, the forest has diminished.
I remember the winter when my father had knee trouble but (because I didn't know about this) I still managed to make him drag me through the snow on my toboggan - and I remember throwing snow at him because he wasn't going fast enough! Hmmmm, yes I could have done that differently!
This visit was in the Fall and the colours were something special. There were scratchings on the forest floor where the wild boars had been quite recently and this gave my son a pang or two! We didn't see anything more threatening than a squirrel so all good.
I bought some flowers and laid them at the entry to the forest, for my lovely Uncle and for my long suffering Father.
Take a look with me....
The walkways are irresistable to me. I have to follow them!
Here are the hills which made perfect toboggan runs.
The forest also has some hidden gems and even at this time of the year, when nature is shutting up shop for the winter, secrets were hiding.
I am endlessly fascinated with fungi in most of its forms.
One of the things that I love about Germany is the woodland which is preserved by law within the largest cities. This beautiful little place is in a suburb of Hamburg!
In the summer, the entrance to the forest was quite overgrown and I cannot tell you how magical that was to step through the round opening and into this fantastic world beyond. We would walk down the Heimfelder Strasse and part way down was the forest. You couldn't actually see into it from the road. It was like entering a cave. I have a photo of that somewhere. I will try to find it for you and post another time.
Beautiful! I would love to visit again when it is all snow covered and if only I still had my red toboggan - heck if only I still had my Dad! I could pull him around and he could pelt me with snow to even up the score!
Words and Photos: Debbie von Grabler-Crozier 2014
South Australia does not experience storms like Queensland and The Top End. We got them just not quite as ferocious or as long. But one warm afternoon, the clouds started gathering from the north and we thought, here we go - it's our turn now! The sky darkened and everything went quiet. The birds disappeared and the world held its breath.
We saw this not long after we moved into our new house in Mount Gambier. The whole place is still a building site! I think that we were one of five or six in the whole area.
It became steadily darker and darker and much moodier. Rob took these photos at about 2.30 in the afternoon.
Still the clouds came...
I love a good storm and waiting was like sitting in a 3D cinema, waiting for the big event to begin.
It gathered and gathered and then.....one clap of thunder. That was it! I was ready to ask for my money back! I had made popcorn and spent ages trying to find the best vantage point.
The clouds rolled away and our town just got on with the rest of its afternoon.
Oh well, that's nature for you. Better luck next time then.
Words: Debbie von Grabler- Crozier 2014
Photos: Rob von Grabler -Crozier 2009
Imagine a sweltering 45 degree day with flies everywhere. The air conditioner is making a noise but no cool air and there is nowhere to escape the heat. Now shift focus and imagine an ancient seaside where the effervescent waves crash continuously onto a sheltered sea shore; a place which can be accused of being too cold for swimming. This is certainly not an accusation today!
Port Mac (properly Port Macdonnell) is about 30 minutes by car from Mount Gambier in South Australia and it is known in the tourist brochures as the Limestone Coast. You can call it The Bay too and the locals will still know what you are talking about. Never The Port though - for some reason, this just isn't right!
The only way to reach The Bay is by car. Sadly, there are no rail links and no public transport at all. Don't even consider a taxi and it is too far to walk. Some mad people have been known to bike it out there but, be warned, there are hills....and remember the flies!
On an earlier post, I showed you around the town itself a little bit but now I want to drive around the coastal road a small way towards the lighthouse, high and unmissable up on a limestone outcrop.
Looking inland, you can see the lighthouse and apart from its jaunty red and white stripes, it is unremarkable as lighthouses go. The real views are behind you so turn 180 degrees and look out over the sea.
See what I mean? Go closer and look at the cliffs and you will see how the coastline got its name.
Craggy is a word which comes to mind and sharp would be another. Not a friendly coast for ships before the lighthouse was added. Many natural harbours and coves though.
There are plenty of places which are not suitable to go into the water and then there are the odd hidden beaches like this one here....
This has been one of my favourite spots since childhood and it is not at all unusual to have it all to yourself. The bay can have some interesting smells from the seaweed but some of the beaches are completely clear and make for a rewarding experience. I don't mind the seaweed smell too much, I guess that I became used to it over time and it sort of goes with the area.
These little sheltered coves provide a bit of respite from the relentless sea, remembering that the next major landmass to the south is Antarctica! Husband Rob would disagree with me but I find The Bay quite swimmable. That water is clean too.
That sign puts everything into perspective!
The bay attracts visitors from everywhere!
Not everywhere, as you can appreciate from the photograph above, is suitable to take a dip. Some of these waters are deep and the rocks are razor sharp. Fishing can be good though. Sometimes, just sitting and gazing meditatively out to sea is the way to spend the time.
The Rocks in the water are solid but not so the caves and adornments on the shore. The photo below shows a lacey formation which if you were to touch it, it would crumble to sand in your fingers. It has patterns which would almost suggest that the rocks were forms from petrified seafoam.
Looking back inland from the coast, you can see the town in the distance.
The crayfish love these wild holes in the sea and the churning current. Not easy to persuade them to give up their digs though!
Crayfish (Rock Lobster) are one of the top catches in this area and most go into the Asian markets. They can sell for extortionate prices - we lived thirty minutes from this coast and almost never bought crayfish. It is really sad that the locals can not enjoy this wonderful delicacy because of the ridiculously inflated prices.
The Bay is worth a visit and the only place to hire a car if you have not done this already is Mount Gambier. One good thing though - I have never seen a traffic jam on the way in my life! People are coming and going all the time and the roads are excellent.
There are more food options than ever before now in the town of Port Mac itself. A small corner store caters for some practical needs and there is a bakery, pub and several good fish and chip shops. Additionally, there is a smallish cafe.
As you can see, this is not a gourmet list and it doesn't cater for specific diets. If you are vegan or very strict with your choices, or if there is someone in your party with food allergies, your best bet is one of the larger supermarkets in Mount Gambier before you set out. You have been warned! Australian towns are isolated and some are not catered for in the same way expected by Europeans. It is too far to go only to find out that nowhere sells tofu!
For my money, nothing beats fish and chips eaten on the beach front! I love the way the gulls join in and expect their share.
Whatever you do, when the inland temperatures rise, do as the locals do and find your way to The Bay and spend the evening with your feet in the water.
Words and photos: (C) Debbie von Grabler-Crozier 2014
