The Plunge Down Under

Stranded in Newark

I suppose it had to happen sometime.  Considering the number of airline flights our family has taken during the past three years, we have done well to make it this far before encountering a cancelled flight with no easy options to reschedule.  By this time today we had hoped to be well on our way to my brother Greg's house in Michigan. Instead we are looking out over Manhattan after an early morning flight from Moncton, too tired to even consider taking the kids in for a quick tour.  

We have crashed at an airport hotel, where the kind staff took pity on us and offered us one of their largest rooms for the day for a reasonable fee.  The kids are having a swim, the adults will get some much needed exercise in the fitness room, and it will give me a chance to post a few photos from our last two days in Canada.  We would far rather be relaxing around Greg and Karin's table, but a hotel room sure beats sitting on the tarmac.  

We saw several bald eagles in New Brunswick, including a pair flying in and out of this nest:

I have taken photos of dozens of "unique to Australia" road signs. Ross thought I should take a photo of this sign indicating a snowmobile crossing.  I remember being amazed the first time I drove through Quebec in winter and saw snowmobiles driving up to the gas station to fill up.

Fishing was a highlight once again this year for the male members of the family.  James had a few lessons, and came back from a canoe trip on the last night with the exciting news that he had reeled in his first fish completely by himself.  Almost all of the dozens of fish that were caught were thrown right back in, but Cameron demonstrated for me the size of the largest fish captured.

Ross's sister Gretchen, and her daughters Tamika and Alissa drove down from Ottawa and joined us for an afternoon and evening at the cottage.  The girls had their turn with the canoe and had a great time playing cards together after dinner.

On Thursday, Gretchen provided a lovely meal of pork tenderloin and salads.  This was followed by a somewhat painful attempt to get family photos.  The shot with everyone required numerous retakes, but thanks to some gentle persuasion from Aunt Marion, we finally captured an acceptable one.

Here's hoping we actually make it out of Newark tonight. 

 

 

 

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O Canada

O Canada

Getting There

Four flights, with a total flying time of twenty-one hours.  Five hours (maybe more) waiting on the tarmac. Eight airport terminals. Three trips through security and two trips through immigration. Two waits at luggage collection.  More than twelve queues, one lasting nearly an hour.  Six episodes of James sprawled on the floor declaring he’s about to die (His mother secretly sympathetic but insisting that he get up post haste).  Four Saturday morning breakfasts, one lunch and no dinners all on the same calendar day.  Thirty-five hours total door to door, ending with a two-hour car ride from midnight to 2am.  Two entire nights of sleep gone forever.

 Was it worth it?  You bet.  Read on and see if you agree.

Arrival

When we debarked from the final flight in Moncton, New Brunswick, I gulped in lungful after lungful of the fresh air.  Its unique scent, a combination of sea breezes, spruce forests, and earthiness that is unique to this part of the world, was the best possible tonic after thirty-two straight hours spent on airplanes and in airports.  I love the smell of New Brunswick air.  It has inspired me to list all of the other things I love about this corner of Canada.

Hospitality

Upon staggering into Cousin Maxine’s cottage at 2am on Sunday morning, the first thing I noted were the mournful calls of the loons from the other side of the lake.  The second was the still-warm rhubarb crumble waiting for us on the countertop. It seemed too good to be true. Perhaps Maxine intended to return the following day and carry it off to a special dinner.  And yet there it was uncovered … Hunger overcame any remaining scruples and we tucked in, savoring every last mouthful.

We discovered the next day, as we devoured a lunch of roasted chicken, broccoli salad, potato wedges, potato salad, and carrot cake delivered to us by Ross’s parents that it was in fact intended for us.  Maxine had stayed up until 11pm to bake it in time for our arrival. There are many places in the world famous for their hospitality.  Fredericton, New Brunswick should surely be given a spot on that list.

 Flora

Summers in New Brunswick are short.  Perhaps for that reason every bit of color possible is packed into those short months.  The flowers, set as they are against a background of the evergreens and silvery birch trees, are a feast for the eyes.  Now I love the fact that in Melbourne we have flowers that bloom all year long.  There is something special, however, about gardens that last only a few months before being covered again in a blanket of snow.  The lupin in particular have caught my eye this year.  The lavender and mauve blossoms are everywhere, from cultivated gardens to wild patches along the roadsides.

Family

 I am keenly aware that not everyone has family eagerly awaiting them on the other side of the world.  We feel particularly blessed in that regard.  We are warmly welcomed year after year no matter where we happen to be living at the time, and for that we are grateful.

 

Rivers, Lakes and Cottages

 If you look at a map of Canada, you will notice that it is dotted by hundreds of bodies of water.  A cottage on a lake is an iconic symbol of this country.  With its harsh winters, it is little wonder that Canadians spend every possible moment by the water during summer.  The city of Fredericton is located on the St John River, making for a pretty setting.  Numerous nearby lakes add to its attraction, including the lake where Maxine’s cottage is located.  We feel blessed beyond measure that she shares it with us for a few glorious days each summer.

As I type this morning I am looking out over a peaceful lake ringed by evergreens.  A brief rain shower recently cleared the air, and now gentle breezes moderate the warm sunshine. The stillness is palpable, allowing me to hear frogs croaking, loons calling, and dozens of nearby birds singing.  Occasionally a car passes by.  It is amazing to realize that it can be heard long before it approaches the cottage.  In Melbourne the noise of traffic is such a constant that one never notices noise from an individual vehicle.

 On this our fourth trip back to North America from Australia I have concluded that jet lag can be compared in at least one regard to childbirth.  You forget the worst of it until you go through it again.  Sophie and I have discovered one way this year of adjusting quickly to a thirteen-hour time difference.  If you spend fifty-five hours with a grand total of eight hours of sleep, and those eight hours broken into three interrupted chunks, you can pretty much sleep on demand after that point.  I can think of no better place to recover, however, than this little corner of eastern Canada.

 

 

Winter Trees

When this post is published, the Wilkin family should be heading toward summer in the Northern Hemisphere.  I thought the photos of trees, all taken within shouting distance of our house in Melbourne, would provide an interesting contrast to what we will see when we finally disembark in Moncton, Canada.

This will be our fourth trip back since we landed here in July of 2010.  The children are terribly excited, and if the enthusiasm of the parents does not quite match that of the children, it is perhaps because we are thinking of the hours of travel to be endured before the fun begins.  We will start by leaving our house at 3:30am for a 6am flight to Sydney.  From Sydney, we make the fourteen hour flight to L.A., where we will change terminals and airlines.  Toronto will be the next stop, after a long layover in L.A., followed by a flight to Moncton, New Brunswick.  If we are awake enough, we will then drive several hours to Fredericton.  By then all systems should be thoroughly confused, but hopefully our exhausted bodies will be able to get some sleep and adjust quickly to the thirteen hour time difference.

Winter Walk to Bushrangers Bay

The second post in my winter series ...

 

Fortified with the hearty breakfast sandwich described in my last post, we set off on the Monday morning of our recent holiday weekend for one of our favorite spots near Melbourne, Cape Schanck.   How can you help but love a city that has beautiful beaches within an hour's drive or so?  That this particular beach requires a 6km roundtrip walk from the carpark seemed like a small obstacle when we set off. It is perhaps just as well that we didn't realize that completing the circuit would require the equivalent amount of climbing to seventy flights of stairs.  I know for a fact that if James had been told that particular piece of information he never would have begun at all, let alone so happily.

We also didn't realize that we would be required to ford an icy inlet of water in order to reach the beach proper.  By the time we reached the other side, we had no doubts as to being alive and well.  It felt luxurious to sink our freezing toes into the sun-warmed sand and stare out at the breaking waves as the many shades of turquoise water sparkled in the sunlight.  

All was well until one errant wave rushed in and soaked Sophie.  This coupled with a sudden loss of sunshine brought our beach idyll to a rather hasty end. Since we had neglected to bring food and water of any kind, this was perhaps a good thing.  We retraced our steps through the increasing darkness and the freshening wind, all the while attempting to dodge the raindrops.  

Just another winter's day in Melbourne ... but a gorgeous one at that what with the rolling green hills on one side and the clear blue ocean on the other.  We were more than happy to toast the Queen on our return home, in front of a blazing fire, and to wish her many returns of the day.

Winter Breakfast: A Recipe

The first in a series of posts on Winter ...

For the perfect winter's breakfast, start by sleeping in as late as possible.  (7am is as late as I can manage). Ideally the sun will be rising as you do, and with a little luck, the slanting rays will be at the perfect angle to beautifully illuminate one big bowl of fruit. The fruit is necessary to fight off all of the nasty winter bugs, plus it provides a pretty object to combat the dreariness of midwinter.  While photographing the fruit bowl, remind your husband that he makes a mean egg and bacon sandwich. Suggest that any children who happen to be awake begin cutting up several dozen sweet, naval oranges in half in preparation for freshly squeezed juice.  Inhale the citrussy aroma, all the while savoring the treat to come later when breakfast is consumed.

Ross has spent the last two years perfecting the ultimate breakfast sandwich.  His obsession began when we first started frequenting a local cafe where they serve the perfect egg---it is fully cooked, but translucent, with a dark orange runny yolk.  In this cafe, the egg is served with smashed avocado and feta cheese over toast.  It is absolutely delicious.  The breakfast sandwhich Ross makes at home is more traditional, however, with bacon, cheese and egg.  

The other catalyst for this particular sandwich is the press that we purchased when we first moved here.  We originally went to the store in search of a waffle maker.  We didn't find a single one.  Instead, there were several shelves devoted to sandwich presses.  Since our motto on moving to Australia was "When in the land of the Romans," we gave up on the waffle maker and purchased a sandwich press instead.

I am going to let Ross take you through the sandwich process:

"The important thing is the ingredients.  I buy the best eggs available in the supermarket.  The bread must be moist, and preferably a bit sweet so as to provide a crust when grilled.  Challah bread is ideal.  I always start frying the bacon first as it takes the longest.  I cook it over a medium low heat until it is perfectly crisp.  Next I start the eggs.  I am still working on how to cook the perfect egg.  The ideal I aim for is a yolk that is a bit runny but still intact.  It must be slow cooked.  When the sandwich is cut in half later, the yolk must still be moist but remain stable.

(Editor's Note:  I cut out several sentences describing the perfectly cooked egg)

While the eggs and bacon cook, I assemble the remaining ingredients and preheat the sandwich press.  I butter the inside pieces of the bread lightly.  Next comes a layer of cheddar cheese, followed by two pieces of bacon and two eggs.  When the sandwich is put together it goes into the sandwich press until the cheese is gooey and succulent.  During this time, I make espresso coffees for any adults who happen to be present."

Fortunate indeed are the recipients of this sandwich, particularly when there is time to savor it in front of the fire with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.  It provides the ideal fuel for a winter's walk to a beautiful beach on the Queen's Birthday (stay tuned for the next post ...).

 

 

 

Wet Start to Winter

 

 

The first of June brings with it the start of winter in Melbourne.  Pretty sandals, sunnies and flippy skirts have been replaced with scarves, boots, umbrellas and cardigans.  The daylight is far too scarce, and much of that has been filled with rain.  In fact, it has been the wettest start to winter in over 150 years.  Still, I have managed to find a few pretty things to photograph with my phone. Today's pictures all come from that handy little device.

The sun did make an appearance several times over the past holiday weekend, including the day Cameron turned thirteen.  We celebrated by taking him to a local Japanese restaurant.

More photos from the holiday weekend coming soon ...

 

Crikey! It's Finally Time for the Last Top End Post

At least one of my friends has commented that the blog posts from our Top End Tour last April seem to be going on forever.  I promise that this is the very last one.  For a change, the text comes from a speech that Sophie prepared to deliver to her class at school.  She was pleased to come away with top marks from her teacher.  It surely helped to have an exciting subject for her topic. We hope you enjoy reading about our crocodile cruise on the Adelaide River.

Saltwater crocodiles, by Sophie

Have you ever been within centimetres of a crocodile’s snapping jaw? Well I have. I’m talking to you today about my experience of watching  HUGE saltwater crocodiles jump up, widen their gigantic mouths and chomp down on a big piece of juicy meat.

The Saltwater crocodile is the largest of all the reptiles in the world. It can live to over 100 years of age and reach 7 m long. Saltwater crocs like to live in tropical weather. They often fight with each other to defend their territory. One of the biggest crocs found was named Sweetheart, but he was no Sweetheart. His favourite thing to do was to attack fishing boats. He was named after the river he lived in.

Young crocs eat little bits of food like insects, crustaceans, reptiles and fish. As they get older they feed on bigger prey. When they get really big they sometimes eat big animals like Buffalo and wild bears. Unfortunately the males might eat their own babies and sometimes little alligators. Other times saltwater crocs eat each other.  They have been known to eat human beings that get within their reach.

Cruise on the Adelaide River

Over the Easter holidays I came face to face with dozens of giant Saltwater crocs near Darwin. We went with a guide who knew all about them and where they lived. He warned us to keep all our body parts inside of the boat so the crocs would not be tempted.  I was so overwhelmed that I accidently stuck my fingers out a few times.  I didn’t realise what I was doing till the guide yelled out “YOU THERE! GET YOUR HANDS BACK INSIDE THE BOAT! It was a good thing our guide was looking out for us.

We kept our eyes peeled on the river watching for crocs to come but it was always the guide who seemed to find them. As soon as he yelled out CROC!, we jumped up in excitement watching for it to come closer and closer and closer till it was this far away. Our guide seemed to know all of their names but they just looked the same to me. We came upon one with the name of Stumpy (pictured below). He called him that because he once was in a big fight and lost two of his limbs.

When the crocodiles were close the cameras came into action. They jumped fully out of the water and I thought they would have been pretty strong to do that because the water was quite deep and they did not have anything to jump off of.

It was a fantastic time and if I had the chance I would defiantly do it again!  The End

Editor's Note:  It truly was a fantastic time, thoroughly enjoyed by every member of our family---one of those total tourist traps that is totally worth it.  Special thanks to Sophie for doing the writing for me for this post.

P.S.  Our guide was very fond of the word Crikey.  No doubt he hammed it up for the benefit of the tourist-passengers, but it seemed very appropriate in this environment.

 

Milestones

Most moments in a family's life belong to the everyday sort.  Desperate searches in the morning for lost items before dashing out the door for school, preparing and eating meals together, endless driving in the car to various activities, Saturdays filled with sporting events and friends, inevitable bickering amongs siblings, and then, of course, there is the ever-present cycle of laundry and cleaning that has to be fit in there somewhere.  When the special moments come along, they should be celebrated I think. Last Sunday was one of those occasions for our family.

After completing a communicants' class with our minister over the past five weeks, both Katie and Cameron publicly professed their faith on Christ.  Joining them were four other young people. In between the profession and their first communion, they had the opportunity to join an ensemble playing Amazing Grace.  I can't think of a time when Amazing Grace isn't an appropriate hymn, but it seemed especially poignant on this particular day.  It was a morning filled with great joy, a few tears, the deep pleasure of fellowship, and celebration.  Following the service we had the happiness of sharing great food with much-loved friends. 

Here is a short clip of Amazing Grace.

The day before, Sophie made and decorated cupcakes for our celebratory lunch.

Ross has been on a very strict diet for the past few weeks so we gave him a hard time over his big plate of food.

As an added bonus, this second day of winter in Melbourne was sunny and unseasonably warm, a most fitting accompaniment to all that took place.  For this and for the events of the entire day, we are most grateful.