It’s been a while since my last run-in with the digital plague. However it is no less cathartic to play Retrovirus, a neat little resurrection of the 6-degrees-of-freedom-shooter. The game tasks you with seeking out and eliminating the dirty purple globs of stylised virus, which are running amok in your computer’s pristine starship-like virtual space.
Welcome to needless rant corner! Your host for today; yours truly.
In one of the most irritating trends of recent years, it seems increasingly okay in games and movies to drop all admittance of serialisation and with brash and unapologetic disregard simply use the original title of the first installment; “Star Trek”, “Tomb Raider”, “Devil May Cry”, “Aliens vs Predator”, “Sim City”; as though we’d forgotten there was one already. Games are particularly guilty of this.
To a categorising brain like mine this is just… no. You are duplicating the primary key as far as I’m concerned. A film or game has a full title which should be unique, certainly within a series. I don’t care if it’s a large number of sequels, or if the original is really old (from over twenty years ago, maybe). The only thing worse than a ridiculously big suffixed number for a sequel is to simply drop a differentiator altogether and act as though it never happened. If they’re worried about a number making it sound un-original- well, there’s your clue: make something original.
What I think actually bothers me though is that it feels like an insidious attempt at replacing the past. It is eerily reminiscent of the role of protagonist Winston Smith, in the novel Nineteen Eighty Four:
“As soon as all the corrections which happened to be necessary in any particular number of The Times had been assembled and collated, that number would be reprinted, the original copy destroyed, and the corrected copy placed on the files in its stead. This process of continuous alteration was applied not only to newspapers, but to books, periodicals, pamphlets, posters, leaflets, films, sound-tracks, cartoons, photographs — to every kind of literature or documentation which might conceivably hold any political or ideological significance. Day by day and almost minute by minute the past was brought up to date.”
Nineteen Eighty Four, George Orwell
So hopefully you haven’t been checking the site in the last couple of days as I’ve been having some problems with the Blackhole Exploit Kit, a pathetic piece of malicious javascript that does all kinds of horrible things to webservers. Hopefully it has finally been seen off and I’ve just got to work on getting the place looking right again, but who really knows for sure. I will get this place sorted soon once it is stable again.
Thanks.
Our journey around Australia ended some months ago, now. I feel I should bring things up to date and finish up the last page of the story.
When we returned to Sydney we had less than a week in Australia. The time was mostly spent visiting relatives there, whose paths we had somehow barely crossed with the whole time we’d been here. I spent much of the time reflecting on the trip as a whole; it seemed crazy to think of the things we’d done and the places we’d been, even so soon after it’d happened.
A breathtaking view of Sydney, from the auditorium at Taronga Zoo
LUCY
I’m pleased to report that the luggage key for the Indian Pacific was eventually found and once we were reunited with our luggage the search for finding a hostel for a night begun. It then ended shortly afterwards as our first stop, the Railway Square YHA (as the name suggests, located right next to the station) had a couple of nights availability. So we settled in, enjoying a 5-bed dorm all to ourselves, and had a think about what we do over our last few weeks.
Whilst reaquainting ourselves with Darling Harbour we popped into the Tourist Info centre for a few ideas and Alex spotted information about the tall ship, “James Craig”. Originally from Sunderland, England, she had a long and busy working life before being abandoned in Tasmania in 1932. After sitting there for forty years, she was rescued and lovingly restored by the Sydney Heritage Fleet. It took 20 years and lots of labour (mostly from volunteers) but she is now in magnificent working order and is the only ship of her kind to regularly make trips out to the ocean. As Alex has wanted to travel on such a ship for quite some time now it seemed a most fitting activity, and what a ship to experience going under the Harbour bridge in. We only did a day sail but you could get involved as much, or as little, as you liked and they provided lunch and drinks for the day. Alex was available to help with anything and I believe he was told to be careful as if he carried on being so helpful he might end up on the crew! I helped out every now and again, mostly heaving on the ropes to move the sails. At one point when I went to offer a hand, the captain of the James Craig tapped me on the shoulder and asked my name. He then told the guys already on the ropes who I was and that I was here to sort them out, hehe. Well, I’m not sure it was my sorting but together we got the sails where they needed to be. Very satisfying. The weather was beautiful throughout the day and added to it being thoroughly enjoyable, however I have got a bit ahead of myself as we sailed the James Craig on Saturday 10th but I’ve neglected to tell you what we did on Friday 9th.
During the day on Friday 9th we met up with another familiar face, Toby, who we had first met in Airlie Beach was in Sydney for just the one day before catching his flight home. We had moved to a hostel across the road (no availability at the YHA over the weekend) which has a cafe at the front so there we were sitting enjoying our breakfast. I had sent a text to Toby to see where he was when just a short time later he appeared right next to us. We then proceeded to spend the rest of the day moseying around Sydney city, slurping on Slurpees and on the hunt for cuddly Australian animals (no not literally, the stuffed toy counterparts). As evening began to set in we parted ways, Toby was meeting up with another friend and Alex and I had a date with a bridge.
We ended up actually having to rush a bit between leaving Toby and getting to the BridgeClimb in time as it took longer to walk back from the Circular Quay area than we remembered – but fear not, we arrived at the bridge with just enough time to peruse the gift shop! Climbing the Bridge was an unforgettable experience that we both felt was well worth it. The harnesses and jumpsuits, in addition to the industrial surroundings, made it all quite different and exciting. Though we couldn’t take our cameras up (due to potential murder by falling camera), we still had a beautiful picture to remember it by.
We had a couple of weeks in the Sydney area so there was plenty of time to check out another nearby must-see: Katoomba and the Blue Mountains.
Our time in Australia was coming to a close. Our month and a half in Perth was far from uneventful: between Lucy’s work we saw and did plenty. We kayaked to Penguin Island (where, while snorkelling, I had a surprise random encounter); revisted Margaret River for some incredible cattle mustering on Horseback at Jester’s Flat; saw the sweet French film ‘Romantics Anonymous’ at the open-air cinema at the Somerville Auditorium at the University of West Australia. We met some of Lucy’s West-Oz relatives, caught up with Lorne on his continuing cycling adventure up past Perth and beyond.
After our South-West tour (see previous entry) we returned our hire car to Perth and wandered into the CBD looking for inspiration. We still had about 2 weeks before Lucy’s work in Perth (and thus our accomodation) was due to start, so the rough plan had been to come back to Perth and hang out or something. We set up camp at the Carillon City food court and began to scour the internet for hostels in Perth that didn’t suck. Unfortunately as we were looking for that same night, the choice was limited and patchy. Either it was full, grossly expensive or rubbish. It was a saturday, so for the most part they were simply full.
While in Albany some days before, we met Dan and Jade who mentioned they were also heading to Perth that same weekend. Theu had kindly offered us a lift if we fancied going back to Albany. It was certainly tempting, the only problem being how we might eventually get back to Perth again once the 2 weeks were through. For those unfamiliar with the area, the distance between Perth and Albany is about 420 kilometres; that’s almost the distance from London to Newcastle. So getting back here on public transport would be interesting, but whatever! We decided to jump; screw the details.
So we caught the train to Rockingham, where Dan and Jade were setting out from. Then we all bundled into the car, even managing to fit all the bags we brought, and set off on a road trip down the Albany Highway. The time actually passed surprisingly quickly and after just a stop or two at random truckstops, we found ourselves back in good ol’ 1849 Backpackers.
We left Alice Springs the morning after our Rock tour ended, we were headed to Perth, WA. The plane journey was nice and easy, though it felt strange not having to show your passport for the flight, particularly as it would take three and a bit hours, but that’s just how crazy big Australia is.
We had arranged to stay in Perth YHA for a night before embarking on our mini-adventure down the South-West coast. It was alright, nothing to shout about. It looked like it could be great but there was just a bit of a ‘feeling’, perhaps influenced by our roommates having had their food stolen from the fridge – doesn’t fill you with confidence. It was situated beside the main rail lines into Perth, between McIver and Perth station. The trains were interesting to watch, not all that noisy either (as several Trip Advisor reviews suggested).
Another Quality Entry brought to you by… Luce De Spruce!
It was just after midnight when we headed for the Greyhound stop, it wasn’t due to leave for another half hour so we were surprised to see it waiting in the bay already. What was even more of a surprise though was bumping into a couple we had met on the boat on the reef over New Years. It was great to see them and it turned out we had been allocated the seats next to them on the coach anyway so we had plenty of time to chat (though as it was past midnight we were all a bit on the tired side). It was a bit strange having allocated seats on the Greyhound though, in our numerous trips this was the first time we were told where to sit and the driver didn’t seem to be the happiest of people. The first leg of our four bus journey to the Red Centre took us back South along the coast to Townsville. For the majority of this stretch I was in the Land of the Zzz’s, with only fleeting moments of consciousness, however during those moments I felt a little uneasy with the style of our happy drivers driving skill. Alex, who unfortunately had to endure the experience conscious as he doesn’t tend to sleep on vehicles, described his driving as having all the finesse of a brick propelled by firecrackers – and I have to say based on the glimpses I had and the reaction of our two friends when we got off the bus at Townsville confirms this as pretty accurate. At this point we parted ways for the second time, they were headed further South whereas we were about to start heading West.
During the remaining journey (a journey which lasted thirty-something hours in total) we met Natalie whilst sharing a table at one of the various rest stops along the way. It turned out that she was also doing the Rock Tour on the same dates that we were, though she was staying at a different hostel in Alice Springs. When we did finally arrive in Alice Springs it was nine in the morning. The YHA where we were booked to stay was a short walk from the bus stop so we loaded ourselves up and headed off. As we were a little early to check-in we just left our main bags in their luggage room and headed off to sort out some errands. This ended up taking most of the day and although we were ready to drop at any point from the lack of proper sleep on the coach (particularly for Alex) we kept going until all was sorted. We knew that we had an early start the next day (we were being picked up at 5am) so we headed to a local pub for dinner. It was actually raining at the time we headed out – turns out the week we were there was during Alice Springs wet season, which lasts a whole 2-3 weeks – and so when we saw the pubs blackboard advertising a roast our taste buds were tingling at the thought. After placing our drinks order, we then waited half a century for someone to collect our food order, then proceeded to wait the remainder of the century to be told that in fact the roast was no longer available. Gutted. At this point we would have left however in the year leading up to the turn of the century our drinks had arrived so we kind of had to stay. We had a brief look over the menu and made our second choices: for me, the good old Aussie burger and chips and for Alex, a salmon salad. This was put through the kitchen quickly and I’m pleased to say the food was actually rather good, it was just a shame the service didn’t match it. Anyway! Once we were fed, it really was time for sleep (unfortuantely the delays at the pub had led to it being a bit later on in the evening than we had hoped but nevermind!).
The next morning we were waiting at the front of the YHA at 5am awaiting pick-up for the tour, it was here that we met Sabrina and Laura; two friends travelling together from Germany, they were also coming on the Rock Tour. Our hostel was the first pick-up of the morning so we got comfy in our seats and started chatting to Adam (aka Cow); our guide for the next few days. By the time we had completed the hostel pick-ups the bus was about half full (including Natalie who we had met on the Greyhound). The rest of the group would be picked up from Ayers Rock Airport later in the day. Continue reading
Tropic Days was a lovely hostel, easily one of the best we’ve been to (if not the best). It was definitely a good choice for Xmas, not least because they put on a complimentary continental breakfast with champagne. On Xmas Eve, our friend Eddie offered to cook us a Carbonara, pointing out he was both Italian and pretty good with food. We heartily agreed to the venture and even learned how to make our own Guacomole from an authentic Mexican recipe he knew of.
In the evening we gathered in the hostel for drinks. After a few, what began with a few googles on the laptop for Youtube Xmas song videos became a big sing-a-long marathon that covered just about every festive song we could think of, including the Twleve Days of Christmas. Five Gold Rings is always best when drunk.
On Xmas Day (after the fine breakfast), Lucy and I took to the beach for a barbeque; your standard Aussie cliché. But I was at the point of being bored of the Standard Xmas of the northern hemisphere so I actually found the idea of spending it in a tropical summer as refreshing. In any case, Cairns doesn’t really have a beach so this was in fact a barbeque on the Esplanade park overlooking the mudflats of the bay, but that doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.
The week between Xmas and New Year began as a busy one, but due to serious storm weather rolling in it was soon a lazy one as one thing after another got cancelled. First my flying lesson, then our kayaking… then our sailing trip for new year! It was a catastrophe. But luckily we were able to get a rebooking for New Year, on the overnight snorkel & dive experience at Reef Encounter. Continue reading
