Hot air high jinks

The Dique Trippers, now on the home stretch, awoke on Sunday morning in Canberra to an unusual sight.

An enormous pumpkin-like shape had made its way into the caravan park precinct.

The mysterious sight that greeted vannies.

It turned out that a hot air balloon on a joy flight had made a forced landing in the visitors car park, narrowly missing trees.

Unhurt, eight men and women inside the gondola waited for instructions from the skipper while he stabilised the canopy.

In the meantime, your trusty reporter grabbed his camera to snap these pictures.

Not that he was a passive observer. The skipper deputised me as traffic warden to stop exiting cars, while he dragged the balloon onto its side across the caravan park roadway, using a long line attached to the top, allowing the hot air to escape and the balloon to deflate.

Forced landing in the visitors car park.

A few minutes later the crew were able to gather up and pack the balloon into its bag -- which reminded me very much of what the 'sewer man' on a yacht does with the spinnaker after it has been 'fired'.

The park manager said it wasn't the first time a balloon had dropped in. "They seem to know what they're doing," he said.




The skipper drags the balloon over the roadway, at the entrance to the caravan park.













A breeze springs up as the balloon deflates.

















Out of danger!














Foldup time.













Into the bag.




Masterpieces galore

The drama over, we headed off to the National Gallery to spend two hours at the Musee d'Orsay exhibition of post-impressionists: Van Gogh, Gaugin, Seurat and Cezanne, and other greats like Toulouse-Lautrec, Bonnard, Denis and Monet.

What a fantastic, memorable exhibition, well worth the gruelling hill climb from Batemans Bays to Canberra, and the one-hour queue into the gallery.

While there we paid a short visit (short because our feet were hurting) to the Aboriginal Elders exhibition of contemporary art, also a knockout.

No visit to Canberra is complete without calling into the War Memorial museum.

This time (and I strongly recommend it) there is a big-screen short colour movie on Australians in World War I air battles, with sequences brilliantly put together using real biplanes and triplanes, and special effects. If you're into aircraft, don't miss it!

Humbled by Harding hospitality

Let's backtrack for a moment. After we left Port Fairy, we journeyed east along the Great Ocean Road in brilliant weather, and found the rugged cliffs, isolated beaches, and the 12 Apostles awesome.

The 12 Apostles on the Great Ocean Road.

That journey took us to Queenscliff and the lovely home of our daughter Angela's in-laws, Shona and Richard Harding.

They insisted on treating us like royalty, providing us with our own room and bathroom, and Shona cooking up a delicious coq-au-vin for dinner.

With Richard and Shona Harding.

After a tour of Queenscliff, Richard joined us on a fascinating guided tour of Fort Queenscliff, the HQ for an extensive chain of forts built around Port Phillip Heads in the late 19th century.

It seems British authorities were terrified about a Russian invasion after the Crimean War (1853-56). The original fort had a moat and was armed with enormous cannons. Port Phillip Heads became the most fortified port in the Commonwealth with 30 big guns guarding the entrance!

Parked outside the Hardings' place in Queenscliff.

Richard and Shona are great conversationalists and so we found ourselves absorbed in discussion on the big issues of the day, and not just political.

I was interested to see in Richard's library The Age of Wonder: How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science by Richard Holmes, a recent work that I had only finished reading and can thoroughly recommend.

On tour at Fort Queenscliff

The balloon drama in Canberra recalled similar hair raising events in the book.





The 'disappearing gun', so named because it retracts downwards after firing to a position where it can be reloaded.


After the deluge, the green, green grass of home

Our next stop was an overnighter at Lakes Entrance, a visually stunning location that we must revisit one day.

Lakes Entrance

Then it was on to Eden.

This is another delightful holiday spot, but unfortunately, we didn't get to see much, because the sky opened up and hammered us with almost continuous rain for four days.

By the third day we were sick of hunkering inside the van and went for a long walk with our umbrellas.

Lorikeets at Eden

When the rain eventually eased we drove to Bateman's Bay, with a detour around Bega that had been declared a disaster zone, with roads under water and bridges washed away.

Seemingly overnight the countryside turned green, a lush deep green we hadn't seen in ages, even in NSW.

Flooding in Bega shot from car.

On the way we called into Bermagui, which I last visited 40 years ago as a young reporter to do an article for the Sunday Telegraph on the son of Zane Grey.

Ohio-born Zane Grey, author of the western novel, Riders of the Purple Sage, which popularised the genre, used to visit Bermagui regularly for big game fishing. He was a tall, handsome, rugged individual, well known among the women of Bermagui.

I found his son, who was retracing his dad's steps, the complete opposite: short, pudgy and introverted. However, we did go fishing and he landed a marlin, which astounded everyone on the boat.

But I digress.

At Batemans Bay we called in for a for a chat with retired artist Peter Connell and his wife Lyn whom we hadn't seen in more than 10 years.

With Peter and Lyn Connell at their home in Rosedale, near Bateman's Bay.

Just to fill in, Peter is a very creative artist whom we subcontracted work to in our PR days. I have a lot to thank him for.

The last time I saw him was at the funeral of our good friend and printer Laurie White, who died of cancer.

Anyhow, Peter and Lyn were excited to see us and it was great to see them looking so well.

Peter warned us about the steep inclines on the road to Canberra.

I must say we hadn't experienced anything like it, especially the leg to Braidwood. Bear in mind we were towing a van up to 2.5 tonnes fully loaded. But I had to use first gear only once, on a very steep hairpin bend.

Several times we were pushing 4000 revs in second gear, but the Pajero didn't complain.

Thanks for your patience

And so we come to the end of our journey, left with only a short run to Mittagong for a game of golf, and then Shoal Bay in Port Stephens. We're looking forward to seeing our grandkids whom we miss desperately.

We have clocked up more than 30,000 kilometres over 13 months, come to know a large part of Australia in a way we could not have done otherwise, met some wonderful people and made firm friends.

Australia is truly a lucky, wonderful country.

Of course, there is a dark side -- we've seen the damage done to the environment by the introduction of foreign animals: goats, pigs, horses, camels, rabbits, foxes, dogs, cats and cane toads. I could add pastoralists, but I guess you can't have your cake and eat it too, so to speak.

Having said that, there's much to be optimistic about.

Many people have asked what's the best place we've visited.

Every region has its pluses and minuses, but the prettiest in our view is Esperance and its environs. Having said that the best times we had were in the towns where we were able to reconnect with old friends and relatives.

Our biggest single cost has been fuel. We also replaced a clutch, front brakes and two tyres on the Pajero. Our Golf caravan has performed magnificently.

The biggest lesson learned is to travel more lightly next time -- we brought about three times as much gear as we needed: too many books, too many tools, too many clothes. You get the picture.

So, to our readers, we bid adieu. This is our last web log.

We hope you've found our stories of some interest. We've enjoyed writing them.