From Sydney to Byron Bay: trains and turkey juice

Train from Sydney to Casino

My carriage awaits!

As you’ll no doubt have gathered by now, I don’t like flying (although as I said previously, self-hypnosis is working wonders), so when I was planning my journey from Sydney to Gold Coast I decided to use the train, stopping off at Byron Bay along the way.  This was not just related to my fear of flying – I really do love trains!  My first mistake was thinking I could get a train for the entire journey, but that was just the beginning…

I had a very early start in Sydney, catching the 07:11 to Casino.  Yes, that’s right: only as far as Casino (an 11 hour train ride), and then it would be a bus for a further 90 minutes.  I was sad to leave Sydney, and my lovely friend Pete, but I guess a big part of this adventure is seeing new things and travelling to different places.  I was in such a rush to get the train, I didn’t stop for a cappuccino or breakfast – a decision I was to regret later.

So, the train: quite old-fashioned, really, and a bit quaint.  All the seating was airline-style, so the first bit of my plan was scuppered – I thought I’d be able to work at a table, getting some writing done while I admired the scenery, and feeling generally inspired.  Never mind, I thought, I’ll do some writing at my tiny little airline table.  But no, the train ride was definitely not conducive to handwriting – this was not a smooth rail track.  Well, my next idea was to do some work online via my trusty iPad – emails, reading some documents I’d been meaning to catch up with, maybe write a blog post – but flipping heck, no wifi connection!!  I was beginning to think I’d travelled back in time a few years!

At least the train itself was comfortable: the seats were reclining (these journeys are long…), and there were cute little fold down footrests.  Happily, I had some papers with me, so I settled down to at least have a peaceful read of those.  But at the very first station (and there were an awful lot of those along the 800km – no super fast railway system here), an elderly lady came and sat next to me (the seats are all pre-booked).  I made the fatal error of mentioning the lovely weather, in true English fashion.  That was it, she (Diane) was off: she was travelling all the way to Grafton (one stop before Casino), and she was intent on chatting all the way.  That’s 10 HOURS. I thought I could talk, but honestly, she made me seem reticent.  And the funniest thing was, she had that way of telling you about people (her large and complex family) and places (I developed a mental map of her life travels) as if you should somehow know them all.  Yes, I sound mean.  Yes, I’m probably going straight to Hell.  But really, I had been sooooo looking forward to this peaceful day!

Meanwhile, I was hugely enjoying the witty chat over the tannoy from the chief steward, in which he generally slated the food he was selling!  There was a choice of hot meals, and when mine arrived I understood his feelings entirely.  It was not good.  But on the plus side, it only cost the equivalent of £4.50, so at least I didn’t feel like I’d paid for more than I received.

These first world problems aside, the scenery really was stunning, and it was fascinating to watch the landscape change.  And actually, to watch the passengers evolve – somewhere around Taree, we began to pick up lots of hippies and surfer dudes: dirty hair, guitars and tiny amps, backpacks, tie dye, hair braids, tattoos, killer tans, interesting aromas… You get the picture.  Oh, and I saw kangaroos hopping around in the fields near the tracks, and nearly went into tourist meltdown!

At Casino (the end of the train line), everyone spilled out and onto 3 buses destined for various points north.  I ended up sitting right at the front of my bus to Byron Bay, which meant I had a good view of the speedometer.  Sadly, the driver didn’t – or at least, he was inclined to ignore it.  Which meant that when a MASSIVE BIRD (a bush turkey, apparently) hit the windscreen, it really did hit it hard.  Amazingly, the screen remained intact – but I spent the rest of the journey watching big bird juices dripping down the windscreen…

I arrived in Byron Bay in the pitch dark, lugged my suitcase for 2km to the house I was staying at, and on arrival wondered why on earth I’d thought doing that journey by train/bus was a good idea.  Still, at least I know all about lovely Diane’s epic family troubles…

Sydney, part 3: the zoo!

The zoo was on my list of must-do things, mainly because of the whole ‘see a cute koala’ issue – I’d promised my youngest I’d do this at the very least.  So it was onto the ferry again – by now, I was feeling like I knew my way around a bit, and I enjoyed the ride out to Taronga.  It turns out you can buy a ticket that gets you on the ferry and then into the zoo.  I noticed it could also include a cable car, but I told the ticket lady I wouldn’t be needing that (like planes, cable cars are really not my thing).  I did think she looked at me a little strangely, and when I got off the ferry I discovered why: if you have a pre-paid zoo ticket, you get to the entrance via the cable car.  Well, this being a time of bravery and new adventures, I decided I should continue to conquer my fears.

Around this point, I realised I was the only person standing in the cable car queue without an entourage of small children (apart from the Chinese tourists posing for hundreds of photos).  Somehow, the cable car attendant seemed to think a middle-aged woman must necessarily be attached to offspring, so he assumed I was with the people in front of me (a dad and his three children), so they adopted me for the ride, and being their momentary mum took my mind off the fact that we were in the sky!  It was amazing, actually, because you get to look down on the whole zoo.  Happily, we didn’t appear to travel directly above the crocodiles – and how many times in your life do you get to take a photo of elephants from above?!

Elephants from above!

Taronga is an excellent place if you want to see Aussie animals and birds – I decided to stick mainly with creatures that normally live here, although obviously I had to have a little look at my other favourite animal.  Check out the giraffes’ daily view – yes, it’s that skyline again!

Giraffes with the best view

I found emus, wallabies, kangaroos, lemurs (like little cat-bears, I think!), tiny penguins… I tried to see the platypus, but was a bit creeped out by the very dark room you had to go in – having just visited the reptiles, I was slightly anxious about what I might not be able to see in the dark!  And apparently, platypus (platypi?) are very shy, so I didn’t stay in there for long.

I’m reserving my award of ‘new favourite animal’ to this: a tree kangaroo.  A TREE kangaroo!  Yes indeed, it turns out there’s a kangaroo that lives in a flipping tree!  Even Pete, my Aussie friend, thought this was a joke along the same lines as drop bears (you definitely have to google that one!), but no, I have the photographic evidence – this was not some weird, sun-induced dream.  Sadly, that evidence is currently only on my proper camera, but for now here’s a picture from Taronga’s library, with bonus tiny baby tree kangaroo:

Tree kangaroo!

So, the koalas – I was toying with the idea of actually doing that tourist thing and having a cuddle, but what do you know, they only have a limited number of ‘appointments’ and that day’s had all been sold.  However, I did get some quality time cooing over them from a short distance – the zoo has a little family of three, and the baby was performing death-defying acts of climbing and nearly falling out of the tree.  At one point, it fell onto its mum’s head, and she bit it on the bottom as punishment!  So here’s the obligatory photo of a cute koala:

Cute koala

Sydney, part 2: beach bonanza!

Anyone who knows me will tell you how much I love a beach.  Generally, the wilder and further north the better, and if there happens to be a castle nearby then I’m pretty much in Heaven.  So of course, I had to visit some beaches here in Australia – actually, it would be difficult not to, given my route up the coast!

My friend Pete decided that part of my initiation to the life of Sydney should be visiting a couple of their beaches.  Happily, the weather improved rapidly last weekend (after my highly English welcome of rain and cold), so on Saturday we headed over to Manly beach (I know – what an appropriate name!)  To get there, you have to take a ferry, and boats are not really my thing.  But these are great – full of happy people taking innumerable shots of the Opera House (yes, I did), and pretty speedy across the harbour.

When we landed, I thought we were at the main beach, although it did seem rather petite… We discovered there are sometimes little penguins there, but today they were hiding from us – although it didn’t stop everyone scouring the beach, just in case.  Anyway, it turns out (thanks, Pete) that if you walk down a little high street, you find yourself at the proper Manly beach, which is just beautiful:

Manly beach

From the beach, you can walk up onto some cliffs, from where the views are spectacular – I’ve never seen such a turquoise (aquamarine?) sea – it’s as if someone emptied out a massive version of those tablets you put in the toilet cistern! To get to the top of the cliff, you get to walk through some proper Australian bush (small scale, probably, but still impressive to me), where we stopped to listen to a massive argument going on between some bullfrogs (well, they sounded pretty cross!)

Cliffs at Manly

There’s a great circular walk back down to the beach, and I had fun spotting the stereotypes: surfer dudes, people playing voleyball, surf rescue in red and yellow, skateboarders… All Aussie life is here!

On Sunday, the weather was even better – warmer and sunnier, although I noticed the locals insisted on wearing coats!  By English standards, it felt like a late Spring-early Summer day, so we headed to Bondi beach.  No ferry this time, just a train (they have double deckers here!  Imagine my excitement!) and a bus.  Like Manly, it feels like you’ve travelled far, far from Sydney when you hit the beach.  I found Bondi slightly shabbier than Manly, but no less charming for that.  Manly feels lived in, Bondi feels transient – if that makes any sense.  Again, the beach is beautiful, and the sea is ridiculously blue (especially in the sunshine):

bondi beach

And look how empty it was!  I had a little paddle in the water, which didn’t seem cold to me, although poor Pete was definitely a little chilled!  There were plenty of surfer dudes, showing the rest of the world how it’s done…

From the beach, you can do a coast walk right round to Coogee, but we only went as far as Bronte (lunch was calling).  Along the way, we found a little gem: an outdoor swimming pool!  My youngest daughter would absolutely love this place!  Bronte’s a smaller beach, although I imagine in the Summer it would be somewhat crowded, and an easy walk from Bondi:

Bronte beach

So, how do these beaches compare with my usual?  Well, a lot more surf, but no castles… but it turns out, I can love a beach anywhere in the world!  Be warned, there will be quite a lot more beach shots in future posts…

Sydney, part 1: Opera House obsession

Sydney Opera HouseThere are few images more iconic than Sydney Opera House, and so I was slightly blown away when I glimpsed it from the train as I travelled into the city from the airport.  At about this point, I realised just how far I had come – on a plane, you get fed, watch some films, sleep a bit, occasionally marvel at the landscape below; but really, you don’t get any real sense of flying right across the world.

My friend Pete (a fellow PhD-er at Nottingham, but Australian) met me at Wynward station, and then I somehow ended up on the 15th floor of his work building, joining the tail end of a celebratory dinner for some project they’d just completed – a dinner that had apparently included copious amounts of wine, so everyone was extremely jolly and welcoming.  A great way to start, looking out at the beautiful skyline from a tall building (very different from the Tower of Doom), but the weather!  Torrential rain, and really a bit cold – reminiscent of England, except that at home I wouldn’t be running through the streets wearing ballet pumps and sans raincoat or umbrella, as we did after the wine extravaganza.  We ended up in a club called the Ivy, apparently very exclusive, but again much like England, and I began to feel the long flight catching up with me.  Didn’t stop me having a little drink, though – you know, just to join in… We eventually got back to Pete’s at about 1.30am, but then we had to pop out again (still raining, but now with sensible shoes and raincoat) to look at the view from the bottom of Pete’s road:

view from Pete's street

The next morning – I say morning, but actually I slept until midday (thanks, jetlag) – Pete was at work, so I was going exploring.  It was still raining, but only intermittently, and decidedly warmer.  I decided to walk across the Harbour Bridge and get up close and personal with the Opera House, my new favourite building.  I felt like embracing my inner tourist, so took loads of photos.  There were also plenty of photobombing opportunities, and I like to think of my gurning face appearing in a number of Chinese tourists’ holiday snaps…

The Opera House is a remarkably beautiful building, and the surrounding Circular Quay and Rocks areas are worth exploring, too.  Also the botanic gardens – I met my first ibis (what a funny design that beak is!) and lots of his friends.  And all the time, I kept turning round and marvelling at the iconic Opera House and Harbour Bridge views – I was still finding it difficult to believe I was really here!


So I’ve taken numerous pictures of the Opera House: by day, by night, from the quayside, the bridge, the north side, even from a ferry… I could produce an album simply called ‘My obsession with the Opera House’, but for now I’ve chosen this as my favourite: Sydney Opera House, just showing off its photogenic self, really…

the Opera House showing off

Flying? Yes, hypnosis works!

So anyone who’s friends with me on Facebook will know that I survived the flight and am now in Sydney.  That sentence amazes me – Sydney!!  More about that in my next post, but today I thought I’d just extol the virtues of self-hypnosis.

One of the key challenges of this trip (apart from raising the money to get here) was getting on the plane – two planes, actually.  About a week before I was due to fly, I started listening to a lovely self-hypnosis app, handily titled ‘Fear of flying’, every night when I went to bed.  People were asking me what was on it, but I have no idea, as I seemed to fall asleep within the first couple of minutes of putting the soothing voice into my brain.  I say soothing, but probably I mean hypnotic, obviously.  I did hear ‘3,2,1 and awake’ a couple of times, but that was pretty much it apart from the very beginning where I was encouraged to relax, relax, relax…

On Wednesday, I made my way (very early in the morning) to Manchester airport, and noticed that I didn’t feel exactly terrified – at least, not to my normal level of pre-flight panic.  After a fabulous amount of queuing and waiting, I finally made it onto the plane, and found myself with a window seat, just beside the wing.  Normally, this would have been a terrible thing – seeing a plane wing and an engine is not the best way to induce calm in someone terrified of all the things that might go wrong!  But this time, I felt okay about it.  Take off was good (always happy to find that even big planes can make it into the air) and then it was drink/lunch time (at about 11am, for goodness’ sake – my poor body clock!).  I managed not to keep one eye trained on the cabin crew, as I normally would, and I even watched some films!  And I was taking pictures of the mountains somewhere over Iran/Iraq without any sense that I really shouldn’t be looking down there.  Then it was feeding time again, followed by a landing in Abu Dhabi.  Under usual circumstances, I’d be really, really hacked off at the thought of having to go in another plane, but again I was fine.  Most amazingly, on the second part of the journey I managed to go to sleep!!  By now, I was realising the amazing brilliance of that hypnosis app – honestly, ask anyone who’s had to endure a flight with me before, I was like a new woman this time.  At the end of it all, as we made our exciting landing in Sydney, I even had the bizarre thought that I’d quite enjoyed the experience!

Happily, I’ll have time to listen to the app plenty more before I have to get on another plane.  For now, it’s Sydney, and then the exciting train journey up to Byron Bay – no hypnosis app required for that one!

Getting there…

Crocheted squares

The ever growing pile of blanket squares!

What a busy time I’ve been having – I’ll need a little sit down after all this.  Oh, hang on, I guess that’s what the immensely long plane journey will achieve…

Anyway – the generosity of friends has enabled me to complete my plans for this epic trip of planes, trains and conferences.  I feel like I’ve blogged, baked and crocheted my way to Australia.  Baking has proved a fantastic way of raising money, but in all honesty I don’t want to see another cake tin for a very long time!

So to crocheting: my final fundraising venture has been to get friends to sponsor me to complete 100 baby blanket squares before I leave the country next week.  At the conference, there will be a ‘yarning table‘ (love that play on words), where delegates can bring the squares they’ve knitted or crocheted and we’ll sew them all together to make baby blankets that will subsequently be sent to Papua New Guinea.  I loved the idea that I’m sitting in Newark-on-Trent making squares, and they’ll end up literally on the other side of the world!  Several of my friends have pointed out that my suitcase will look a little odd should anyone in customs happen to open it, but I think it will make a great story.

Happily, I love crocheting, and I’ve discovered that you can do it ANYWHERE!  I’ve crocheted on the train to work, while having coffee with friends, in my lunch break in the Tower of Doom, in the car (while being a passenger, obvs)… I’m currently on square number 76, so I feel very optimistic that I’ll get to my target.  And I’m enjoying crochet so much, maybe I’ll try and use it as means of remaining calm and collected on the plane.  Better than alcohol, really.  Perhaps I’ll produce a little photo album of places in Australia where I’ve crocheted – I might look like a crazy lady, but at least I’ll be producing something useful along the way.

Just eight days until I fly, and I’m getting a teeny bit excited now.  I’m able to envisage being in Australia, so it’s just the small matter of getting on the plane.  Self-hypnosis app is ready and waiting…

On generosity and kindness

cakes for sale

…and there was more!

Yesterday was the big cake sale day.  I made meringues, lemon cakes, fruit cakes, victoria sponges, fairy cakes, honeycomb boulders, white chocolate tiny cakes, and cheesy biscuits (well, there had to be one little bit of savoury among the devilish sugar overdose!)

I simply can’t believe how many people came to eat and buy my cakes!  I had an idea that there would be a steady trickle of friends during the day, and I was imagining the mountain of cake that might be left over at the end.  But in reality, there was an absolute deluge of visitors pretty much on the dot of 11:30, and in two hours they managed to eat and take away almost everything I’d baked.  And in their generosity, they gave me almost £250!!!

It really was one of the loveliest days of my life: what could be better than old friends and new coming to my house, drinking tea and eating cake?  I’m incredibly touched by the fact that people made the effort, and by how generous they were.  I feel like this trip is supported by so many brilliant people, and it will be all the more special for that.

So it’s now just 22 days until I fly, and I feel like my plans are all coming together.  I’m starting in Sydney, then travelling by train (yes, 13 hours!  I love trains!) to Byron Bay for a few days, and then I’ll be moving on to Gold Coast for the conference itself.  I still can’t believe it’s real, and my fear of flying has not abated.  I’ll be getting that self-hypnosis app back on in the near future…

In the meantime, I’m doing a little cake sale at work tomorrow – I have to bake again tonight, as there was so little left from yesterday’s extravaganza.  And I have a little sponsored thing underway – more about that later in the week!  For today, I’m just enjoying the glow of having successfully fed huge amounts of sugar to such a lovely group of people…

Cake now, Bernard! For one day only!

Thursday night baking

Thursday night baking!

One day, in the (not too) distant future, I fully intend to be living in my spiritual home of Northumberland, running a little tea room called ‘Dr B’s Cakes and Teas’ (thanks, Sandy, for that inspirational name!).  It will be especially loved by people who struggle to write in offices, and I might have a little corner where crafty types can sell their wares.  All sounds very idyllic, doesn’t it?  Well, maybe it really will happen – I can’t see myself hanging around in the Tower of Doom forever.

I really do like making cakes – it’s how I show people that I love them.  In fact, the title of this blog post refers to just that: I once turned up to a hen weekend several hours after everyone else, and I’d been sure to send my cakes in advance – a sneaky but sure fire way of ensuring that they liked me when I arrived!  We decided I should have a mail order service for those moments when only chocolate fridge biscuit will do (hence, cake now Bernard!).  So it’s only right that my fundraising efforts should revolve around the constructing and eating of cake.  Next up, an open house cake day: next Monday, being a handy Bank Holiday, I’m inviting friends and neighbours to pop in and eat/buy cake.  I’m providing the tea, the coffee and the soft drinks – and COPIOUS amounts of cake – and my friends have been asked to bring their pocket money!

Today I made meringues, two fruit cakes, and some magical honeycomb (ready for the wonder that is honeycomb chocolate boulders, yum).  Tomorrow evening it will be a couple of lemon cakes and some tiny white chocolate bites.  On Saturday, I’m off to London for the day, so Sunday will be full on baking of Victoria sponges, fairy cakes, rice krispie cakes, and who knows what else…

Much as I love baking, I imagine that by Tuesday I’ll never want to see cake ever again!!

Cakes of Happiness!

CakesHaving decided I was going to make cakes to help towards funding my way to Australia, I sold my first batch on Saturday morning.  On the advice of willing victims, who have previously eaten a lot of my cakes of badness, I made some chocolate honeycomb boulders, some white chocolate tiny cakes, and some toffee crispy cakes.  Much baking on a Friday evening after work, but actually quite fun: homemade honeycomb is its own reward in terms of appearing like actual MAGIC from just three little ingredients!

So it was off to choir on Saturday, having sent out an email letting people know there was going to be a cake sale.  I had no idea what to expect, and half thought that nobody would even buy anything.  How wrong I was!  Before choir even began, almost all the gift bags of chocolate boulders had gone – it turns out that women in the choir weren’t even bothered about doing a taste test: the lure of chocolate is a powerful force!

By the end of choir, I’d managed to shift the whole lot – all thirty-something gift bags!  And I made a profit of £40, so my little money box is smiling broadly now.  I’m so chuffed at the generosity of people around me – imagine, I make cakes, and people pay money to eat them – how brilliant is that?!

I’ve decided on several more cake sales, including a fun day at home at the end of August: an open house invitation to my local friends, at which they can come and drink tea and eat cake, and even buy some to take away with them.  More on that coming soon…

Meanwhile, I’ve had something of a brainwave on the subject of my sponsored event.  My husband did his first triathlon this weekend (I know!  And he can still walk at the end of it!), and suggested I should aim to do one as well.  So guess what: in six weeks minus two days, I’ll be doing a sprint triathlon!!!!  Well, it’s a challenge, isn’t it?  And I definitely wanted any sponsored event to be exactly that: pushing myself all the way to Australia!  Be warned: I’ll be looking for lovely people to sponsor me soon…

Clinical academic careers and liminal space

A few weeks ago, I blogged about the challenges of moving from clinical life to a fun existence in the Tower of Doom.  I was somewhat preoccupied with this issue for a couple of reasons: first, I had recently had a somewhat bruising encounter with an NHS trust as I attempted to maintain one foot in research and the other in practice; and second, I was about to give a presentation on the subject to A LOT of midwives.  I’ve been a bit obsessed with the idea of moving through liminal spaces for a number of years – an earlier blog post will explain all.

I thought it might be useful to put a link to that presentation here, as it explains the idea of how midwives (including myself) might want to maintain a hybrid identity, and the challenges they (or I) face in attempting to do so.  The presentation is more related to my own experiences, but I’m also writing a paper on this subject from the perspective of the midwifery leaders I interviewed for my doctoral research.  Click here to view the presentation – it’s quite informal, honest!