Category: Travel

Is there something wrong?

I asked myself that question when about 1000 odd words into a current short story, one that I continue to go back to, but found an initial reluctance to write, and now seems to be difficult to continue.

Is the reason because I don’t feel like writing, that I’ve written myself into a corner, the story isn’t flowing, or there’s something else I’d rather be doing…

Like, scouring the internet…

Working on writing some blog posts, like this one…

Checking my email…

Checking my other blogs to see how many people have viewed my recent posts,

Or just puddle with anything other than what I should be doing.

The thing is, I know where most of the stories are going, it’s just a matter of sitting down, picking up the threads, and writing. Certainly, I could be working on one or another right now.

But, something is nagging at me.

I thought it was that I wanted to write another Being Inspired piece, having the photo I wanted to use for inspiration in my head. I sat down this morning and started it, and got seven or eight paragraphs done, and then it was time to go down to breakfast.

Attention diverted.

I could have written more after breakfast, but that seemed to segue into a chat over coffee that ran into lunch. It’s odd how it seems there is so much to talk about.

Then it’s been one excuse after another that has kept me from picking up that story and running with it. I could do it now, but that reluctance remains.

Perhaps tomorrow.

For now, I’m going to work on some crosswords and see if that doesn’t inspire me, and if it doesn’t I could always have an early night.

It’s the same every time we go away, on the run all day doing touristy stuff, making notes for later on, on the run, and then getting back to the room exhausted. After all, there is so much to see and do.

Maybe I’ll just reflect on today and worry about it tomorrow, except…

We have an equally hectic day planned.

Maybe I’ll get that holiday from writing after all.

Searching for locations: Toowoomba Flower Festival, Toowoomba, Queensland, Australia

The Toowoomba Carnival of Flowers is held in September, and generally runs for ten days at the end of the month.

We visited the Laurel Bank Park, where there are beds of many colorful flowers,

open spaces,

statues,

an area set aside for not only tulips but a model windmill

and quite a number of hedge sculptures

There was also the opportunity to go on a morning or afternoon garden tour which visited a number of private gardens of residences in Toowoomba.

An excerpt from “Mistaken Identity” – a work in progress

The odds of any one of us having a doppelganger are quite high. Whether or not you got to meet him or her, or be confronted by them was significantly lower. Except of course, unless you are a celebrity.

It was a phenomenon remarkable only for the fact, at times, certain high profile people, notorious or not, had doubles if only to put off enemies or the general public. Sometimes we see people in the street, people who look like someone we knew, and made the mistake of approaching them like a long lost friend, only to discover an embarrassed individual desperately trying to get away for what they perceive is a stalker or worse.

And then sometimes in is a picture that looms up on a TV screen, an almost exact likeness of you. At first you are fascinated, and then according to the circumstances, and narrative that is attached to that picture, either flattered or horrified.

For me one turned to the other when I saw an almost likeness of me flash up on the screen when I turned the TV on in my room. What looked to be my photo, with only minor differences, was in the corner of the screen, the news reader speaking in rapid Italian, so fast I could only translate every second or third word.

But the one word I did recognize was murder. The photo of the man up on the screen was the subject of an extensive manhunt. The crime, murder of woman in the very same hotel I was staying, and it was being played out live several floors above me. The gist of the story, the woman had been seen with, and staying with the man who was my double, and, less than an hour ago, the body had been discovered by a chambermaid.

The killer, the announcer said, was believed to be still in the hotel because the woman had died shortly before she had been discovered.

I watched, at first fascinated at that I was seeing. I guess I should have been horrified, but at that moment it didn’t register that I might be mistaken for that man.

Not until an another five minutes had passed, and I was watching the police in full riot gear, with a camera crew following behind, coming up a passage towards a room. Live action of the arrest of the suspected killer the breathless commentator said.

Then, suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. On the TV screen, plain to see, was the number of my room.
I looked through the peep hole and saw an army of police officers. It didn’t take much to realize what had happened. The hotel staff had identified me as the man in the photograph on the TV and called the police.

Horrified wasn’t what I was feeling right then.

It was fear.

My last memory was the door crashing open, the wood splintering, and men rushing into the room, screaming at me, waving guns, and when I put my hands up to defend myself, I heard a gunshot.

And in one very confused and probably near death experience, I thought I saw my mother, and thinking what was she doing in Rome?

…

I was the archetypal nobody.

I lived in a small flat, I drove a nondescript car, had an average job in a low profile travel agency, was single, and currently not involved in a relationship, no children, and according to my workmates, no life.

They were wrong. I was one of those people who preferred their own company, I had a cat, and travelled whenever I could. And I did have a ‘thing’ for Rosalie, one of the reasons why I stayed at the travel agency. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, but one could always hope.

I was both pleased and excited to be going to the conference. It was my first, and the glimpse I had seen of it had whetted my appetite for more information about the nuances of my profession.

Some would say that a travel agent wasn’t much of a job, but to me, it was every bit as demanding as being an accountant or a lawyer. You were providing a customer with a service, and arguably more people needed a travel agent than a lawyer. At least that was what I told myself, as I watched more and more people start using the internet, and our relevance slowly dissipating.

This conference was about countering that trend.

The trip over had been uneventful. I was met at the airport and taken to the hotel where the conference was being held with a number of other delegates who had arrived on the same plane. I had mingled with a number of other delegates at the pre conference get together, including one whose name was Maryanne.

She was an unusual young woman, not the sort that I usually met, because she was the one who was usually surrounded by all the boys, the life of the party. In normal circumstances, I would not have introduced myself to her, but she had approached me. Why did I think that may have been significant? All of this ran through my mind, culminating in the last event on the highlight reel, the door bursting open, men rushing into my room, and then one of the policemen opened fire.

I replayed that last scene again, trying to see the face of my assailant, but it was just a sea of men in battle dress, bullet proof vests and helmets, accompanied by screaming and yelling, some of which I identified as “Get on the floor”.

Then came the shot.

Why ask me to get on the floor if all they were going to do was shoot me. I was putting my hands up at the time, in surrender, not reaching for a weapon.

Then I saw the face again, hovering in the background like a ghost. My mother. Only the hair was different, and her clothes, and then the image was going, perhaps a figment of my imagination brought on by pain killing drugs. I tried to imagine the scene again, but this time it played out, without the image of my mother.

I opened my eyes took stock of my surroundings. What I felt in that exact moment couldn’t be described. I should most likely be dead, the result of a gunshot wound. I guess I should be thankful the shooter hadn’t aimed at anything vital, but that was the only item on the plus side.

I was in a hospital room with a policeman by the door. He was reading a newspaper, and sitting uncomfortably on a small chair. He gave me a quick glance when he heard me move slightly, but didn’t acknowledge me with either a nod, or a greeting, just went back to the paper.

If I still had a police guard, then I was still considered a suspect. What was interesting was that I was not handcuffed to the bed. Perhaps that only happened in TV shows. Or maybe they knew I couldn’t run because my injuries were too serious. Or the guard would shoot me long before my feet hit the floor. I knew the police well enough now to know they would shoot first and ask questions later.

On the physical side, I had a large bandage over the top left corner of my chest, extending over my shoulder. A little poking and prodding determined the bullet had hit somewhere between the top of my rib cage and my shoulder. Nothing vital there, but my arm might be somewhat useless for a while, depending on what the bullet hit on the way in, or through.

It didn’t feel like there were any broken or damaged bones.

That was the good news.

On the other side of the ledger, my mental state, there was only one word that could describe it. Terrified. I was looking at a murder charge and jail time, a lot of it. Murder usually had a long time in jail attached to it.

Whatever had happened, I didn’t do it. I know I didn’t do it, but I had to try and explain this to people who had already made up their minds. I searched my mind for evidence. It was there, but in the confused state brought on by the medication, all I could think about was jail, and the sort of company I was going to have.

I think death would have been preferable.

…

Half an hour later, maybe longer, I was drifting in an out of consciousness, a nurse, or what I thought was a nurse, came into the room. The guard stood, checked her ID card, and then stood by the door.

She came over and stood beside the bed. “How are you?” she asked, first in Italian, and when I pretended I didn’t understand, she asked the same question in accented English.

“Alive, I guess,” I said. “No one has come and told what my condition is yet. You are my first visitor. Can you tell me?”

“Of course. You are very lucky to be alive. You will be fine and make a full recovery. The doctors here are excellent at their work.”

“What happens now?”

“I check you, and then you have a another visitor. He is from the British Embassy I think. But he will have to wait until I have finished my examination.”

I realized then she was a doctor, not a nurse.

…

My second visitor was a man, dressed in a suit the sort of which I associated with the British Civil Service.  He was not very old which told me he was probably a recent graduate on his first posting, the junior officer who drew the short straw.

The guard checked his ID but again did not leave the room, sitting back down and going back to his newspaper.

My visitor introduced himself as Alex Jordan from the British Embassy in Rome and that he had been asked by the Ambassador to sort out what he labelled a tricky mess.

For starters, it was good to see that someone cared about what happened to me.  But, equally, I knew the mantra, get into trouble overseas, and there is not much we can do to help you.  So, after that lengthy introduction, I had to wonder why he was here.

I said, “They think I am an international criminal by the name of Jacob Westerbury, whose picture looks just like me, and apparently for them it is an open and shut case.”  I could still hear the fragments of the yelling as the police burst through the door, at the same time telling me to get on the floor with my hands over my head.

“It’s not.  They know they’ve got the wrong man, which is why I’m here.  There is the issue of what had been described as excessive force, and the fact you were shot had made it an all-round embarrassment for them.”

“Then why are you here?  Shouldn’t they be here apologizing?”

“That is why you have another visitor.  I only took precedence because I insisted I speak with you first.  I have come, basically to ask you for a favour.  This situation has afforded us with an opportunity.  We would like you to sign the official document which basically indemnifies them against any legal proceedings.”

Curious.  What sort of opportunity was he talking about?  Was this a matter than could get difficult and I could be charged by the Italian Government, even if I wasn’t guilty, or was it one of those hush hush type deals, you do this for us, we’ll help you out with that.  “What sort of opportunity?”

“We want to get our hands on Jacob Westerbury as much as they do.  They’ve made a mistake, and we’d like to use that to get custody of him if or when he is arrested in this country.  I’m sure you would also like this man brought into custody as soon as possible so you will stop being confused with him.  I can only imagine what it was like to be arrested in the manner you were.  And I would not blame you if you wanted to get some compensation for what they’ve done.  But.  There are bigger issues in play here, and you would be doing this for your country.”

I wondered what would happen if I didn’t agree to his proposal.  I had to ask, “What if I don’t?”

His expression didn’t change.  “I’m sure you are a sensible man Mr Pargeter, who is more than willing to help his country whenever he can.  They have agreed to take care of all your hospital expenses, and refund the cost of the Conference, and travel.  I’m sure I could also get them to pay for a few days at Capri, or Sorrento if you like, before you go home.  What do you say?”

There was only one thing I could say.  Wasn’t it treason if you went against your country’s wishes?

“I’m not an unreasonable man, Alex.  Go do your deal, and I’ll sign the papers.”

“Good man.”

…

After Alex left, the doctor came back to announce the arrival of a woman, by the way she had announced herself, the publicity officer from the Italian police. When she came into the room, she was not dressed in a uniform.

The doctor left after giving a brief report to the civilian at the door. I understood the gist of it, “The patient has recovered excellently and the wounds are healing as expected. There is no cause for concern.”

That was a relief.

While the doctor was speaking to the civilian, I speculated on who she might be. She was young, not more than thirty, conservatively dressed so an official of some kind, but not necessarily with the police. Did they have prosecutors? I was unfamiliar with the Italian legal system.

She had long wavy black hair and the sort of sultry looks of an Italian movie star, and her presence made me more curious than fearful though I couldn’t say why.

The woman then spoke to the guard, and he reluctantly got up and left the room, closing the door behind him.
She checked the door, and then came back towards me, standing at the end of the bed. Now alone, she said, “A few questions before we begin.” Her English was only slightly accented. “Your name is Jack Pargeter?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“You are in Rome to attend the Travel Agents Conference at the Hilton Hotel?”

“Yes.”

“You attended a preconference introduction on the evening of the 25th, after arriving from London at approximately 4:25 pm.”

“About that time, yes. I know it was about five when the bus came to collect me, and several others, to take us to the hotel.”

She smiled. It was then I noticed she was reading from a small notepad.

“It was ten past five to be precise. The driver had been held up in traffic. We have a number of witnesses who saw you on the plane, on the bus, at the hotel, and with the aid of closed circuit TV we have established you are not the criminal Jacob Westerbury.”

She put her note book back in her bag and then said, “My name is Vicenza Andretti and I am with the prosecutor’s office. I am here to formally apologize for the situation that can only be described as a case of mistaken identity. I assure you it is not the habit of our police officers to shoot people unless they have a very strong reason for doing so. I understand that in the confusion of the arrest one of our officers accidentally discharged his weapon. We are undergoing a very thorough investigation into the circumstances of this event.”

I was not sure why, but between the time I had spoken to the embassy official and now, something about letting them off so easily was bugging me. I could see why they had sent her. It would be difficult to be angry or annoyed with her.

But I was annoyed.

“Do you often send a whole squad of trigger happy riot police to arrest a single man?” It came out harsher than I intended.

“My men believed they were dealing with a dangerous criminal.”

“Do I look like a dangerous criminal?” And then I realized if it was mistaken identity, the answer would be yes.

She saw the look on my face, and said quietly, “I think you know the answer to that question, Mr. Pargeter.”

“Well, it was overkill.”

“As I said, we are very sorry for the circumstances you now find yourself in. You must understand that we honestly believed we were dealing with an armed and dangerous murderer, and we were acting within our mandate. My department will cover your medical expenses, and any other amounts for the inconvenience this has caused you. I believe you were attending a conference at your hotel. I am very sorry but given the medical circumstances you have, you will have to remain here for a few more days.”

“I guess, then, I should thank you for not killing me.”

Her expression told me that was not the best thing I could have said in the circumstances.

“I mean, I should thank you for the hospital and the care. But a question or two of my own. May I?”

She nodded.

“Did you catch this Jacob Westerbury character?”

“No. In the confusion created by your arrest he escaped. Once we realized we had made a mistake and reviewed the close circuit TV, we tracked him leaving by a rear exit.”

“Are you sure it was one of your men who shot me?”

I watched as her expression changed, to one of surprise.

“You don’t think it was one of my men?”

“Oddly enough no. But don’t ask me why.”

“It is very interesting that you should say that, because in our initial investigation, it appeared none of our officer’s weapons had been discharged. A forensic investigation into the bullet tells us it was one that is used in our weapons, but…”

I could see their dilemma.

“Have you any enemies that would want to shoot you Mr Pargeter?”

That was absurd because I had no enemies, at least none that I knew of, much less anyone who would want me dead.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then it is strange, and will perhaps remain a mystery. I will let you know if anything more is revealed in our investigation.”

She took an envelope out of her briefcase and opened it, pulling out several sheets of paper.

I knew what it was. A verbal apology was one thing, but a signed waiver would cover them legally. They had sent a pretty girl to charm me. Perhaps using anyone else it would not have worked. There was potential for a huge litigation payout here, and someone more ruthless would jump at the chance of making a few million out of the Italian Government.

“We need a signature on this document,” she said.

“Absolving you of any wrong doing?”

“I have apologized. We will take whatever measures are required for your comfort after this event. We are accepting responsibility for our actions, and are being reasonable.”

They were. I took the pen from her and signed the documents.

“You couldn’t add dinner with you on that list of benefits?” No harm in asking.

“I am unfortunately unavailable.”

I smiled. “It wasn’t a request for a date, just dinner. You can tell me about Rome, as only a resident can. Please.”

She looked me up and down, searching for the ulterior motive. When she couldn’t find one, she said, “We shall see once the hospital discharges you in a few days.”

“Then I’ll pencil you in?”

She looked at me quizzically. “What is this pencil me in?”

“It’s an English colloquialism. It means maybe. As when you write something in pencil, it is easy to erase it.”

A momentary frown, then recognition and a smile. “I shall remember that. Thank-you for your time and co-operation Mr. Pargeter. Good morning.”

…

© Charles Heath 2015-2021

Searching for locations: A long, narrow, winding road to the top of a hill

Or in other words, going up the mountain to O’Reilly’s Rainforest Retreat.

…

The road, from the turn off the Greenlee cottages, Is narrow, winding, and not one you can go faster than 40kph. Buses and trucks are restricted to 20kph, but as you get further into the mountains, it’s difficult to see how they can get along the road at all.

It’s difficult enough in a mid-size SUV.

At times the road is so narrow that you wonder how trucks and buses could get between the trees, because the close you get to the guest house, the narrower the road. And, at times, the car has to scrape by the overhanging branches, especially when having to make way for oncoming traffic.

The road in places is definitely not wide enough for two cars, but there are a lot of points where you can pull off to the side to let them pass.

It is tarred, but being in the middle of a dense tropical forest, it’s pitted and rutted, and very uneven. There is not one moment where can relax, or tale your eyes off the road, as some of us do, to take in the surrounding scenery.

But, whilst most of it looks the same, it’s certainly not boring, and every now and then you break out of the darkness into a clearing. And, sometimes a house.

Yes, people do live on the side of a mountain, and, just to be clear, their view, every morning, from the back verandah must be spectacular

At the end of the three quarters of an hour drive we emerge onto a mountain top, and what is O’Reilly’s guest house, though after a more investigative look around, the guests stay in motel like rooms. Those were the rooms we could see, but apparently there are villas that are part of the rainforest, but we did not get to see them.

That would be where I would stay, if I was going to stay up here.

There is an old wooden structure, but if this is the original guest house, it doesn’t look like people stay there any more.

But, it’s not the accommodation the people come here for, it’s the endless bush walks. Of course, there’s other stuff there, but I suspect for most people, it’s more about communing with nature, discovering the wildlife, and taking in the fresh country air.

Oh, and a plane, like one that had crashed nearby, with an interesting story to go with it.

We went into the souvenir story and whilst the prices are higher than I expected, there’s a wide variety of items that are worthy of being a reminder of the place.

We also went into the cafe, a large cavernous space that was a reminder of the chalet style building in alpine areas, made completely of wood. I was expecting it to be older than it was, but certainly, it was more atmospheric than the modern cafes. The food, though expensive, was good, and the coffee excellent.

It was a pity that we could not do more walking that day, but it was a pleasant interlude, and a place I would go back to.

Searching for locations: An old country homestead, Canungra, Australia

Or to be more precise, the homestead at what is now O’Reilly’s vineyard, where there is a pleasant lawn out back running down to the river for picnics, an alpaca farm next door, and the homestead plays host to functions, and wine tastings.

My interest was that we had assumed there was a restaraunt, and we were going to have lunch. There might be one, but not the day we visited, it was just cafe food or a picnic available.

I was more interested in the old homestead, because it was a fine example of the homesteads built in the ‘outback’.

…

Today we are having lunch in the Platypus room, in the O’Reilly’s vineyard farmhouse, which, if you close your eyes and let your imagination run free, could see it as the master bedroom of a homestead.

Certainly the building is old, made completely of timber, inside and out, with the traditional high ceilings to keep the heat at bay.

At one end, a large bay window, which would be ideal to sir and view the outside, past the sweeping verandah.  There is a small lawn and a rotunda, but beyond that what might have been extended gardens, is the vineyard.

The homestead is in an ideal position midway between the main road and the river, has the traditional surrounding verandah, and shows signs of being extended on almost all sides.

On the other side of the wide corridor that leads you to the bar, and, coincidentally, down the centre of the house, is a smaller bedroom, also used as a dining room, and ubiquitously named the library.

It may be small but it does have a fireplace.  Which the assumed master bedroom does not, but now I’m thinking that room might have been the morning room.

Behind the room we’re in is another bedroom, or perhaps this might be the master, because it does have a fireplace and is quite large.  And a name, the Ambassador room.  Now it serves as the pick up place for picnic baskets.

There is another room on the opposite side of the corridor called the Drawing Room, but is not open to the public.  But, going into the room with the fireplace adjacent to it, you can sell the aroma of pizzas, so it’s probably an extension of the kitchen, and, walking around the outside that side of the house proves it to be case.

After all, they do catering for weddings and need a very large food preparation area which I discovered runs down the whole of that side of the house.

At the end of the corridor I’d the bar and spare space, and running off that and behind that is where there is a large dining area, perhaps prior to COVID, the restaurant.

It’s not hard to imagine that area as a very large entertaining area, either for very large dinner parties, or dancing.

As for the food, it’s either a picnic basket, or pizzas.  We chose the latter, not realising the bases were not home made, but bought in.  

The toppings however were both plentiful and tasty.  It could have been hotter, because it was a cold day, and it was cold in the room.

As for something to do other than taste the wine, and buy a few bottles, you can get up close to the vines, which, at this time of the year gave been pruned back and look quite dead, look at or walk an alpaca, even feed it, or all of them, or go down to the river and see if you can spot a Platypus.

Perhaps next time we’ll have a picnic down by the river.

Travel is part of the story – Melbourne

Brisbane to Melbourne

I doubt there’s an airport anywhere in the world that will be an experience to remember except for all the wrong reasons.   Singapore, Hong Kong and Heathrow are notable only for size and the time it can take to get from the main area to the departure gate.

Brisbane, the airport we are departing from today, is very small by comparison.

But in one aspect all airports are the same.  The price of ordinary items compared to anywhere other than an airport.

Brisbane airport is no exception.  Whilst some items are what may be called reasonable prices I don’t regard $10 plus for a sandwich toasted or otherwise as reasonable.  Coffee however seems to have a benchmark of between $4 and $6 depending on size the world over.

And believe it or not sometimes it tastes like coffee.  Perhaps at home I’m spoilt but quite often the coffee, especially overseas, is awful and you can’t wait to get back.

Despite my own reservations, I do it myself this time, having a flat white coffee and a pie which I have to say was a reasonable price.  On this visit to the airport half the food outlets were closed due to reconstruction, so outlets and choices were extremely limited.

But the airport experience is only one aspect of the day’s  travel.

The airline – Virgin, the plane – 737-800

There is the airline you use.  We have four in Australia, Qantas, Virgin Australia, Tiger and Jetstar.  We usually travel on Qantas mainly because we have frequent flyer points to offset the cost but this time we didn’t.

This time we travelled Virgin Australia because the fares were very reasonable.  For a long time Virgin had the reputation of being an LCA but this is changing as they attempt to take on Qantas as a full service airline.

One aspect of travelling by air is the online check in and bag drop experience.  I don’t think I’ve travelled Qantas once when the automated bag drop system worked for us without having to ask for assistance.

With Virgin it was painless.  Check in online, select your seats and drop the bags at a counter.  Perhaps we were lucky for the time of day there was not a long queue but just the same it was less problematic than Qantas.

Something else that Virgin does better than Qantas is getting the passengers onboard.  They board passengers on the plane from both ends which then enables the departure to be on time.  It is also a positive when disembarking passengers, once again speeding up the process and enabling an on time turn-around.

We are in row 18 and should board the plane by the rear stairs and requiring us to negotiate two sets of steps.  At the moment we both have sore knees, so we were allowed to go through the front door.

My first impression of the plane is one of spaciousness, perhaps skewed by seeing the first few rows given over to business seats.  But one cannot deny the colorful seats and the fact the pitch is one inch better that most of its rivals.

I’m sitting in the dreaded middle seat where there is hardly enough room to move and even though it looks more spacious it isn’t and it would be impossible to eat. I guess in that aspect there is little difference between the airlines.

In flight service has improved, and although they are still charging for food and drinks, they now provide a complimentary snack, usually biscuits and a glass of water.  It’s as much as I can handle in the middle seat because using a knife and fork would be impossible.

Then there’s problem of not only having to sit on the middle seat, but when the person in the window seat needs to get out.  For once there is no complaint from me because l need to periodically get up and stretch my legs as I cannot sit for longer than half to one hour without having problems on arrival.  Last time I traveled I could not get up for over two hours and after landing I had a very bad cramp.

Although the plane left five minutes late, it arrived on time, but because of cross winds we land faster than usual and hit the tarmac quite hard.

After we disembarked taking the rear stairs for expediency, there’s just enough time to get to the baggage belt to collect our bags, the delivery far the quickest than any time I have travelled Qantas.  The worst baggage wait was at Heathrow which took longer than hour.

The hotel – Hilton Doubletree

We are staying at the Hilton Doubletree in Flinders Street opposite the iconic station, one that I used nearly every day for years.  The hotel is relatively new and we are staying on the 10th floor reserved for HHonors guests.  The hotel is just up from the corner of Elizabeth street and Flinders Street and therefore in a very good location.  It is only a short distance to a variety of eating establishments.

We will be staying there again, not only for location, breakfast, and the external food choices, but the fact they supply you with cookies, which are, in my opinion, very addictive.

For us a continental breakfast at the hotel is included with our stay.  If we want to upgrade to the hot breakfast it is an additional $6 per person.  We do for the first day.  Like most Hilton brand hotels the breakfast choices are basically the same, and you get to choose the type of eggs you want which are then cooked for you.  We chose the boiled eggs, and were cooked perfectly.

Self driving in Melbourne and suburbs

We are in Melbourne for a funeral and to visit relatives, so a hire car is essential.

If you are not used to driving in a city that has toll roads Melbourne can be an expensive proposition.  Our last stay the tolls cost us about $90.  There are four tolls just to get from the airport to the city.

That can be alleviated if you have a gps that can find you a route into the city not using toll roads, but if you do be prepared to run into a lot of traffic lights and, of course, traffic.  We have a slight advantage of having once lived in Melbourne but even so we still finished up seeing places we’d never been before, so trying to avoid toll roads without a gps could be a problem.

Also if you are driving in the peak hours be prepared for horrendous traffic where at times the motorways can be like car parks especially if there’s been an accident.  One morning we were there, there were four accidents at the same time basically closing down the motorway.

Like most modern hotels this one does not have its own car park.  Neither did the Hilton at Docklands.  There the car park was opposite the hotel and you could park for a discounted rate.  The Doubletree is basically the same, only the car park is about half a block away and you park for the discounted rate of $30 per day versus the normal rate of $54.  Parking in the city, any city in Australia, is not cheap.  Nor for that matter is valet parking at hotels which can exceed $50 per day.

Brisbane to Melbourne

Return of hire car is simple but getting to the lane marked rental car returns was not so easy and beware it is relatively poorly signed.  The traffic heading towards the terminal is horrendous and it takes us 15 minutes to travel half a kilometer.

We are returning to Brisbane by Virgin, this time on one of their smaller planes, an Embraer E190 which has a two abreast either side seating arrangement.  Once again, it gives the impression there is more room which when seated appears to be the case.  I suspect that feeling would disappear very quickly when the passenger in front has his or her seat back in recline.

This service has the wifi entertainment system active where you can use you own device to stream entertainment content via their special app.  I had not downloaded it so Ix couldn’t test it.

The snack this time was cheese and biscuits which were quite nice along with a cup of water.  We brought extra water on board ourselves now we know we can.

After disembarking and collecting our baggage this time already circulating on the baggage belt before we got there, we stopped to have a relaxing cup of coffee at the Coffee Club outlet outside the main terminal, a fitting end to the trip, and a quiet moment back on home soil before picking up the car from long term car park and going home.

Travel is part of the story – Salzburg

Salzburg features in ‘One Last Look’

 

Along with My Fair Lady, another of my favourite musicals was Sound of Music and having seen it a number of times over the years, it had conjured up a number of images of Salzburg in my mind, and with them a desire to go there.  We had been to Salzburg once before, an overnight train stop between Vienna and Innsbruck, an afterthought, but what we saw then was reason enough to come back later and spend several days.

A pity then the day we arrived, and for much of our stay, it rained.  But, like hardened travelers, very little stops us from doing anything, and particularly sightseeing.

We stayed at the Crowne Plaza – The Pitter in a very well appointed room.  Breakfast included, it was a great way to start the day.  The afternoon we arrived we went for a short walk to the old city passing through the Mirabelle gardens with the Pegasus Fountain, Rose Garden and Dwarves Garden.  Later we discovered that the archway had been used in part of the filming of Sound of Music.

We took the Festungsbahn funicular railway up to the Fortress Hohensalzburg, dating back to 1077, and the largest fortress still standing in Europe.  We spent a pleasant afternoon wandering through the rooms and exhibits, and then had lunch at a café, the Salzburg Fortress Café, that overlooked the country side.  This was where we were introduced to Mozart Gold Chocolate Cream added to our coffee.

It led us to searching for the product which we eventually found in a confectionary store, Holzemayr in the Alter Markt.  Not only sis we find the Gold liqueur there was also a dark chocolate variety as well.  We bought a whole box to bring back with us, as well as a number of other chocolates including Victor Schmidt Austrian Mozart Balls, a delicious chocolate and marzipan combination.

With another afternoon to spare we visited the Salzburg Residence which previously housed Salzburg’s ruling prince-archbishops.  We visited the reception rooms and living quarters, as well as the Gallery.  It is as ornate as any of the palaces in Austria, resplendent with furnishings and paintings.  After that, the visit to Mozart’s birthplace was something of an anticlimax.

But, what we were in Salzburg for, the Sound of music tour, and the places we visited:

The Mirabelle gardens, where Maria sang Do Re Mi in front of the gates to the gardens.  We spent some time here before and after the tour, and also has a look inside the Mirabelle Palace, which is not open to the public as it is the city administrative offices.

Leopoldskron Palace where the boating scene was filmed as well as exteriors.  They were not allowed to film inside the place and were only allowed to use the exterior.  An interesting tidbit of information, one of the children nearly drowned.

Helbrunn palace is now home to the gazebo where Rolf and Leisl sang their song, ‘16 going on 17’.  The interesting part of this was the fact the Gazebo used to film the scene was much larger than the actual Gazebo on display.

The walkway from the fortress back to the old city passes Nonnberg Abbey where Maria was a novice, and where the opening scenes were filmed.  A number of scenes were filmed here, including the song ‘Maria’ in the courtyard.  The tour only showed the exterior of the Abbey.

Salzburg lake district where panorama and picnic scenes were filmed.  Even on the dullest of days, during which throughout our tour in continually rained, the scenery was still magnificent.

Mondsee church, where the wedding scenes were filmed.  It was surprising just how small the church really is.  It was also a stop to have afternoon tea or some ‘famous’ apple strudel.

Needless to say we watched Sound of Music straight after the tour, and managed to pick out all of the places we had been to.  The only downside to the tour, singing along to the songs.  I’m sorry, but I do not sing, and some of those that were, well, I say no more.

Travel is part of the story – Melbourne

Brisbane to Melbourne

I doubt there’s an airport anywhere in the world that will be an experience to remember except for all the wrong reasons.   Singapore, Hong Kong and Heathrow are notable only for size and the time it can take to get from the main area to the departure gate.

Brisbane, the airport we are departing from today, is very small by comparison.

But in one aspect all airports are the same.  The price of ordinary items compared to anywhere other than an airport.

Brisbane airport is no exception.  Whilst some items are what may be called reasonable prices I don’t regard $10 plus for a sandwich toasted or otherwise as reasonable.  Coffee however seems to have a benchmark of between $4 and $6 depending on size the world over.

And believe it or not sometimes it tastes like coffee.  Perhaps at home I’m spoilt but quite often the coffee, especially overseas, is awful and you can’t wait to get back.

Despite my own reservations, I do it myself this time, having a flat white coffee and a pie which I have to say was a reasonable price.  On this visit to the airport half the food outlets were closed due to reconstruction, so outlets and choices were extremely limited.

But the airport experience is only one aspect of the day’s  travel.

The airline – Virgin, the plane – 737-800

There is the airline you use.  We have four in Australia, Qantas, Virgin Australia, Tiger and Jetstar.  We usually travel on Qantas mainly because we have frequent flyer points to offset the cost but this time we didn’t.

This time we travelled Virgin Australia because the fares were very reasonable.  For a long time Virgin had the reputation of being an LCA but this is changing as they attempt to take on Qantas as a full service airline.

One aspect of travelling by air is the online check in and bag drop experience.  I don’t think I’ve travelled Qantas once when the automated bag drop system worked for us without having to ask for assistance.

With Virgin it was painless.  Check in online, select your seats and drop the bags at a counter.  Perhaps we were lucky for the time of day there was not a long queue but just the same it was less problematic than Qantas.

Something else that Virgin does better than Qantas is getting the passengers onboard.  They board passengers on the plane from both ends which then enables the departure to be on time.  It is also a positive when disembarking passengers, once again speeding up the process and enabling an on time turn-around.

We are in row 18 and should board the plane by the rear stairs and requiring us to negotiate two sets of steps.  At the moment we both have sore knees, so we were allowed to go through the front door.

My first impression of the plane is one of spaciousness, perhaps skewed by seeing the first few rows given over to business seats.  But one cannot deny the colorful seats and the fact the pitch is one inch better that most of its rivals.

I’m sitting in the dreaded middle seat where there is hardly enough room to move and even though it looks more spacious it isn’t and it would be impossible to eat. I guess in that aspect there is little difference between the airlines.

In flight service has improved, and although they are still charging for food and drinks, they now provide a complimentary snack, usually biscuits and a glass of water.  It’s as much as I can handle in the middle seat because using a knife and fork would be impossible.

Then there’s problem of not only having to sit on the middle seat, but when the person in the window seat needs to get out.  For once there is no complaint from me because l need to periodically get up and stretch my legs as I cannot sit for longer than half to one hour without having problems on arrival.  Last time I traveled I could not get up for over two hours and after landing I had a very bad cramp.

Although the plane left five minutes late, it arrived on time, but because of cross winds we land faster than usual and hit the tarmac quite hard.

After we disembarked taking the rear stairs for expediency, there’s just enough time to get to the baggage belt to collect our bags, the delivery far the quickest than any time I have travelled Qantas.  The worst baggage wait was at Heathrow which took longer than hour.

The hotel – Hilton Doubletree

We are staying at the Hilton Doubletree in Flinders Street opposite the iconic station, one that I used nearly every day for years.  The hotel is relatively new and we are staying on the 10th floor reserved for HHonors guests.  The hotel is just up from the corner of Elizabeth street and Flinders Street and therefore in a very good location.  It is only a short distance to a variety of eating establishments.

We will be staying there again, not only for location, breakfast, and the external food choices, but the fact they supply you with cookies, which are, in my opinion, very addictive.

For us a continental breakfast at the hotel is included with our stay.  If we want to upgrade to the hot breakfast it is an additional $6 per person.  We do for the first day.  Like most Hilton brand hotels the breakfast choices are basically the same, and you get to choose the type of eggs you want which are then cooked for you.  We chose the boiled eggs, and were cooked perfectly.

Self driving in Melbourne and suburbs

We are in Melbourne for a funeral and to visit relatives, so a hire car is essential.

If you are not used to driving in a city that has toll roads Melbourne can be an expensive proposition.  Our last stay the tolls cost us about $90.  There are four tolls just to get from the airport to the city.

That can be alleviated if you have a gps that can find you a route into the city not using toll roads, but if you do be prepared to run into a lot of traffic lights and, of course, traffic.  We have a slight advantage of having once lived in Melbourne but even so we still finished up seeing places we’d never been before, so trying to avoid toll roads without a gps could be a problem.

Also if you are driving in the peak hours be prepared for horrendous traffic where at times the motorways can be like car parks especially if there’s been an accident.  One morning we were there, there were four accidents at the same time basically closing down the motorway.

Like most modern hotels this one does not have its own car park.  Neither did the Hilton at Docklands.  There the car park was opposite the hotel and you could park for a discounted rate.  The Doubletree is basically the same, only the car park is about half a block away and you park for the discounted rate of $30 per day versus the normal rate of $54.  Parking in the city, any city in Australia, is not cheap.  Nor for that matter is valet parking at hotels which can exceed $50 per day.

Brisbane to Melbourne

Return of hire car is simple but getting to the lane marked rental car returns was not so easy and beware it is relatively poorly signed.  The traffic heading towards the terminal is horrendous and it takes us 15 minutes to travel half a kilometer.

We are returning to Brisbane by Virgin, this time on one of their smaller planes, an Embraer E190 which has a two abreast either side seating arrangement.  Once again, it gives the impression there is more room which when seated appears to be the case.  I suspect that feeling would disappear very quickly when the passenger in front has his or her seat back in recline.

This service has the wifi entertainment system active where you can use you own device to stream entertainment content via their special app.  I had not downloaded it so Ix couldn’t test it.

The snack this time was cheese and biscuits which were quite nice along with a cup of water.  We brought extra water on board ourselves now we know we can.

After disembarking and collecting our baggage this time already circulating on the baggage belt before we got there, we stopped to have a relaxing cup of coffee at the Coffee Club outlet outside the main terminal, a fitting end to the trip, and a quiet moment back on home soil before picking up the car from long term car park and going home.

Travel is part of the story – Salzburg

Salzburg features in ‘One Last Look’

 

Along with My Fair Lady, another of my favourite musicals was Sound of Music and having seen it a number of times over the years, it had conjured up a number of images of Salzburg in my mind, and with them a desire to go there.  We had been to Salzburg once before, an overnight train stop between Vienna and Innsbruck, an afterthought, but what we saw then was reason enough to come back later and spend several days.

A pity then the day we arrived, and for much of our stay, it rained.  But, like hardened travelers, very little stops us from doing anything, and particularly sightseeing.

We stayed at the Crowne Plaza – The Pitter in a very well appointed room.  Breakfast included, it was a great way to start the day.  The afternoon we arrived we went for a short walk to the old city passing through the Mirabelle gardens with the Pegasus Fountain, Rose Garden and Dwarves Garden.  Later we discovered that the archway had been used in part of the filming of Sound of Music.

We took the Festungsbahn funicular railway up to the Fortress Hohensalzburg, dating back to 1077, and the largest fortress still standing in Europe.  We spent a pleasant afternoon wandering through the rooms and exhibits, and then had lunch at a café, the Salzburg Fortress Café, that overlooked the country side.  This was where we were introduced to Mozart Gold Chocolate Cream added to our coffee.

It led us to searching for the product which we eventually found in a confectionary store, Holzemayr in the Alter Markt.  Not only sis we find the Gold liqueur there was also a dark chocolate variety as well.  We bought a whole box to bring back with us, as well as a number of other chocolates including Victor Schmidt Austrian Mozart Balls, a delicious chocolate and marzipan combination.

With another afternoon to spare we visited the Salzburg Residence which previously housed Salzburg’s ruling prince-archbishops.  We visited the reception rooms and living quarters, as well as the Gallery.  It is as ornate as any of the palaces in Austria, resplendent with furnishings and paintings.  After that, the visit to Mozart’s birthplace was something of an anticlimax.

But, what we were in Salzburg for, the Sound of music tour, and the places we visited:

The Mirabelle gardens, where Maria sang Do Re Mi in front of the gates to the gardens.  We spent some time here before and after the tour, and also has a look inside the Mirabelle Palace, which is not open to the public as it is the city administrative offices.

Leopoldskron Palace where the boating scene was filmed as well as exteriors.  They were not allowed to film inside the place and were only allowed to use the exterior.  An interesting tidbit of information, one of the children nearly drowned.

Helbrunn palace is now home to the gazebo where Rolf and Leisl sang their song, ‘16 going on 17’.  The interesting part of this was the fact the Gazebo used to film the scene was much larger than the actual Gazebo on display.

The walkway from the fortress back to the old city passes Nonnberg Abbey where Maria was a novice, and where the opening scenes were filmed.  A number of scenes were filmed here, including the song ‘Maria’ in the courtyard.  The tour only showed the exterior of the Abbey.

Salzburg lake district where panorama and picnic scenes were filmed.  Even on the dullest of days, during which throughout our tour in continually rained, the scenery was still magnificent.

Mondsee church, where the wedding scenes were filmed.  It was surprising just how small the church really is.  It was also a stop to have afternoon tea or some ‘famous’ apple strudel.

Needless to say we watched Sound of Music straight after the tour, and managed to pick out all of the places we had been to.  The only downside to the tour, singing along to the songs.  I’m sorry, but I do not sing, and some of those that were, well, I say no more.

Searching for locations: A long, narrow, winding road to the top of a hill

Or in other words, going up the mountain to O’Reilly’s Rainforest Retreat.

…

The road, from the turn off the Greenlee cottages, Is narrow, winding, and not one you can go faster than 40kph. Buses and trucks are restricted to 20kph, but as you get further into the mountains, it’s difficult to see how they can get along the road at all.

It’s difficult enough in a mid-size SUV.

At times the road is so narrow that you wonder how trucks and buses could get between the trees, because the close you get to the guest house, the narrower the road. And, at times, the car has to scrape by the overhanging branches, especially when having to make way for oncoming traffic.

The road in places is definitely not wide enough for two cars, but there are a lot of points where you can pull off to the side to let them pass.

It is tarred, but being in the middle of a dense tropical forest, it’s pitted and rutted, and very uneven. There is not one moment where can relax, or tale your eyes off the road, as some of us do, to take in the surrounding scenery.

But, whilst most of it looks the same, it’s certainly not boring, and every now and then you break out of the darkness into a clearing. And, sometimes a house.

Yes, people do live on the side of a mountain, and, just to be clear, their view, every morning, from the back verandah must be spectacular

At the end of the three quarters of an hour drive we emerge onto a mountain top, and what is O’Reilly’s guest house, though after a more investigative look around, the guests stay in motel like rooms. Those were the rooms we could see, but apparently there are villas that are part of the rainforest, but we did not get to see them.

That would be where I would stay, if I was going to stay up here.

There is an old wooden structure, but if this is the original guest house, it doesn’t look like people stay there any more.

But, it’s not the accommodation the people come here for, it’s the endless bush walks. Of course, there’s other stuff there, but I suspect for most people, it’s more about communing with nature, discovering the wildlife, and taking in the fresh country air.

Oh, and a plane, like one that had crashed nearby, with an interesting story to go with it.

We went into the souvenir story and whilst the prices are higher than I expected, there’s a wide variety of items that are worthy of being a reminder of the place.

We also went into the cafe, a large cavernous space that was a reminder of the chalet style building in alpine areas, made completely of wood. I was expecting it to be older than it was, but certainly, it was more atmospheric than the modern cafes. The food, though expensive, was good, and the coffee excellent.

It was a pity that we could not do more walking that day, but it was a pleasant interlude, and a place I would go back to.