Holidays holidays holidays.The usual way of handling these things is to head from the grey urbanised bustle and icy winds seeking scorching blue skies and remote island beaches. Bizarrely, I found myself doing exactly the opposite, more bizarrely still, this seemed like a good thing. And most bizarrely of all, before I knew it I found myself in the company of three of my four family for the first time in 9 months: the marge, the parge and the piggo (sadly no Dr Ick - you were sorely missed sis, but it's some consolation that I hear from a reliable source you're going to be heading this way in 2008).
From the first reunion, accompanied by multiple bottles of red wine, we had a fantastic 10 days in Oz, especially once E had stopped interrupting everything I said with "god, stop talking like an Aussie", and once temperatures rose above the 40 year low they had plummetted to in preparation for my arrival.
The first five nights in Sydney we spent in Paddington, an old Victorian part of Sydney, in a beautiful house occupied by my dad's cousin Timothy (see photo of the two of them below). This was the perfrect place to spend a few days wining, dining and generally consumering. The perfect place too to explore Sydney's rather famous (but deservedly so) landmarks.
And generally hung out, trying to look like Aussies...
We also managed to fit in a wee trip up to the wine region of the Hunter Valley, where we sampled the fare of four vineyards, and in which time certain un-named souls managed to get rapidly merry, falling asleep each time we got in the car and rolling out in time to sample the next of the frankly delicious wines.
Later we spent three days in the Blue mountains, learning about gum trees, doing some bush-trekking, and learning about gum trees.
We also were lucky enough (though Aussies will tell you that they're two-a-penny over there) to find some wild kangeroos in a clearing in the trees, and Emily proved her mettle as the only person in the world to be absolutely petrified by the vicious critters ("But they kick, they kick").
The second half of our Sydney stay we moved to a new base across the water in stunning and well-heeled Balmoral, to stay in the house of Diane and Graham, two friends of my parents. More amazing food and a colourfully detailed description of what a nasty piece of work Senor Howard really is.
Finally, just as the high-life was beginning to take its toll (R's belly began to expand worringly, and I became concerned that after so much delicious wine, pre-mix would never be the same again), the Solomon Islands began to call. So we packed up our stuff, said our goodbyes, and headed north to Brisbane, the last stepping stone on the road to Honiara. We had a last day buying a few last things (ipod cover for the pig, ear drops for me - how much does that tell you!!), strolling the South Bank and cruising the river in the City Cat ferries.
And then we bid the country G'day, and headed on our way.
