Tue 1st December 2009, Freycinet Peninsula

I’m sitting on a beach somewhere on the Freycinet peninsula eating breakfast with a spork No, it isn’t a porky stork sitting next to me. It’s an eating implement made out of tough nylon. It has a spoon one end and a fork the other. The fork has a serrated edge for cutting. I suppose they couldn’t fit knife in the descriptive name somewhere.

I got here late afternoon, set up camp, and then thought I’d see if I could get to the top of Mt Amos and back before night. I was advised against doing this by the caring ranger back at the parks building. She said it is wet, and you might slip. I immediately thought that she is used to dealing with denizens of concrete jungles from around the world who only see trees in pictures.

I soon understood her warning. To get to the top of Mt Amos you have to traverse, or climb straight up, great slabs of rock. There is pinkish rock and dark rock. The pinkisk rock is worn from running water. This is the slippery stuff when wet. And the angle is steep, even on dry rock I was on all fours at time looking for holds.

I got to the top at about quarter past seven. i took some photos of sunlight shining through a hole in the clouds to spotlight the sea in the distance.

There are water restrictions on Freycinet. An effective way to save water is to have no hot water – cold showers . I had a very quick shower, then went to my tent to eat and read. With my head near the wall of the tent something from outside the tent was pushing against my ear and sniffing. It could smell the bananas. I asked what it was up to, and it wandered off. I think it was a wallaby; wombats, from experience, are more persistent.

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22nd June 2009, my garden.

I haven’t posted for ages. It is cold here, and I’m nearly hibernating.

I have only just downloaded the photos off my camera – there isn’t much to show for the last two months.

About a month ago I was making my way up to the car under the feeble light of a near flat torch. I was moving quietly, out of habit; there are often wallabies or rabbits. When fruit falls to the ground there are bandicoots, especially under the apricot tree.

I nearly ran into the back of a wallaby. We both got a scare. He didn’t move far, so I talked to him to try and settle him down.

He stayed.

He is still here.

When I come home he is usually eating next to the path that goes down to my house. I say hello and he continues to eat, ignoring me. Chook is usually nearby; I think she enjoys his presence. He isn’t too keen on visitors though, and buggers off to one of his hiding places nearby if anyone comes.

I can see his tracks everywhere now, and the tunnels he has made into the shrubs. I find his face looking out at me, hidden amongst the shadows and branches of the fir tree.

He is old I think; sometimes he stumbles.

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“Took lots of photos of this monster bee – they are like little rocks with wings, or miniature flying wombats.”
(c) Andrew Calder

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