Try though we might...

 


 

We have tried so many times to reply to people's blog responses but we just can't work out how to do it. We can't even pretend we are visiting the blog and leave a response, like some of you clever chaps can! Sorry. We are not ignoring you and live your comments😁

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Strange milkman

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 Yesterday saw a massive tick on Kate's bucket list; We drove up to my cousin, Joy's house and the garage door opened as if by magic as we approached allowing the car to drive into the basement of the house. The trip to Australia has already delivered, therefore.  We have now been upside down for about 14 hours and, so far, the blood isn't running to our heads.  We awoke after a short but inevitable sleep to the sound of kookaburras. It is the most extraordinary bird song I have heard. It sounds like someone whistling softly who has the ability to yodel whilst whistling. Dawn was just beginning to break and I found the sound both spine chilling and hilarious - not something I thought possible up to now. It was like there was a creepy and psychopathic milkman circling the house on his deliveries. The whistling is soft, melodious and mournful - typical of psychopathic milkmen, I find. Brisbane is tropical. The humidity suggests warmth regardless of the temperature. Today, a...
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Signing off

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 OK, so it seems that merchandise which winds up in an airport goes through some sort of 'size-warp'. Toblerones are prone to expand and apparently, 'Pringles' shrink. Both in circumference and thickness. But don't worry, the price has increased, presumably to cover the cost of the different sized product, the different sized packaging and so on.... Airports are obviously very significant sources of revenue. It's Brisbane airport that we're sat in now as we await our flight to Dubai, and so, home. It is quite late in the evening and the departure lounge is quiet. The high ceilings which they favour these days, give the space a hushed, almost reverential feel, as people glide by, their cases gliding obediently by their sides. This is the sterile space between worlds where we 'limbo dance' until we reach our gate and exit it. Only people's dress might give a clue to the country that they call home. It's a good time to reflect on the past month....
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Bruce

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 This entry starts with an apology to all kookaburras. The birds which sound like a disturbed milkman are magpies! This is much more believable when you consider the nature of a magpie but it is a far cry from their British counterparts. (See what I did there...) Today we climbed a mountain in the Glasshouse range. Saying we had a smashing time would be such a dad joke that I shall avoid it. The mountains are a series of volcanic lumps which stand in a loose huddle, allowing plenty of flat land between each one, ensuring a great 360° view from each one. They all rise to satisfying points with only a few requiring ropes. Satisfied with the view from Ngungun mountain, we climbed down to a pub lunch. I had a sheep. On a plate. I certainly didn't do justice to it but it was delicious.  I also had a small beer. Rather chilly, I thought... I love that we drove down the Bruce highway to get there. I practiced the word Bruce in my best Australian for much of the journey. I don't know ...
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