Brady & The Buspasses - The World Tour

For the last few days the folk here in Hong Kong have been togged up in balaclavas, ear-muffs and arctic jump-suits on account of the temperature dropping to 20C in cloudless skies. They don’t know they are born.

We leave tomorrow so this is farewell from Brady and the Buspassess. I can’t tell you how much we are looking forward to getting home to take full advantage of Mr Darling’s generous ‘wrinkly coal-allowance’.

But at least our last few days have been full of new experiences. To see Hong Kong it’s good to go up the Peak by the old tram. Here’s the view and the pair of us preparing for a long lunch in the art deco restaurant next door.

We decided to walk down the ‘Old Peak Road’ and believe me it was steep. On the way I saw many more of the notices I had seen every time we walked near any road that is not perfectly flat. It says ‘Slope Registration No’.

Here’s your chance to win something worthwhile! A bottle of the merest moothfie to the first person to post an explanation as to why and who started this wacky piece of bureaucracy.

Come evening time we took in the light show put on by many of the buildings in Hong Kong and Kowloon. We were lucky enough to see one of the local photographers in frantic action for the short 15 minute sales window the light show gave him. Here he is sitting under a tree with his trolley full of state-of-the-art computer photo equipment and what we got for a couple of dollars.

For our last day and in a final attempt to save money for the Bank of Scotland we have settled for the OAP economy cruise option of Hong Kong harbour finished with the $1 building site meal.

Finally, this is a Chinese lucky cat I bought – it has a battery and apart from bringing good fortune it waves goodbye. I hope it works for you.

You may recall me mentioning Sian’s extraordinary power to make it rain on arrival. After seven years of drought she landed at Harare, Zimbabwe and there followed days of thunder storms. In gratitude President Mugabe dubbed her an official ‘Rain Goddess’.

I thought she might be losing her touch – until we arrived in Brisbane. On Sian’s arrival at my cousin Ainslie’s city apartment Brisbane experienced relentless super cell tropical storms for days (hail the size of eggs falling) – a national disaster was declared and the troops called in.

In between storms the weather was quite pleasant and we walked through Brisbane’s riverside parks in a pleasantly mellow mood.

Ainslie and I found it necessary to do a spot of red wine research (Holly and Lara her delightful twin daughters were on carpet cleaning duties). Included in the study was a field trip to the local casino (where I won $700 at the poker- yippee).

We then went on to Ainslie’s home in Hervey Bay for a few days as we needed to get toughened up after all the city slicking. Here’s Sian in the pool – very British – she refused a pina colada and went for the weak tea instead.

For some reason Sian demanded that I took a picture of her on the way to the fishing in the back on Ainslie car.

And as for the fishing – I caught a smallish shark – but more importantly Danger-Woman caught the most poisonous fish in Australian waters – the deadly ‘Puffing Toad Fish’

That evening was a little blurred on account of the day’s excitement but I do remember meeting a fellow refuge from Zimbabwe and winning the Melbourne Cup all over again.

On the drive back to Brisbane we hit the storms again – for two solid hours we went through 3/4 ‘can’t see out the windscreen downpours’. As we approached Brisbane the car was surrounded by fork and sheet lightening – it was pretty scary. Driver Ainslie was given a hearty round of applause and a wee moothfie on arrival.

A while later we had a rooftop Barbie – notice the lack of men – in Australia they do the cooking.

We spent the last couple of days in Byron Bay where we went to the most easterly point in Australia. Sian was delighted to spot turtles, dolphins and the rare Australian Lump-Faced finger snapper on Tallow beach.

At this time of year all Australia’s school leavers (schoolies) congregate on this part of the coast to get drunk etc- it’s a sort of right of passage. We were lucky to meet a couple of schoolies on the beach. This is Andy and Jen. Andy wants to become a sales representative for Harry’s Pies and Jen wants him to grow a groucho style moustache (I have granted her wish).

Here comes Hong Kong.

We liked Cairns. Our apartment was at the top of the esplanade which turned out to be 2.2K long – a very nice walk to the town – but we had to go there quite often so we decided to hire a car.

In a bid to connect with the real Australia we went for an early model Holden restored to perfection. Here you see Sian trying to abduct the cute car-hire salesman.

This is herself showing off the latest outfit from the pantechnicon that follows us around Australia. There is a small element of danger involved as the esplanade walk is signposted as a high risk crocodile attack area.

Immediately behind Cairns there is a mountain range with a rainforest and beyond that the outback. On the way we went to a gorge riddled with snakes and poisonous creepy-crawlies – yet another gorge dive opportunity for Danger-Woman.

Australians never miss a chance to drive about in utes. Normally, they drive on roads and have a dog in the back. This chap strapped on some train wheels and went flying down the track.

Another shocking change in scenery occurred. One minute we were driving on windy roads through mountainous forest – then bush and a straight road for hundreds of miles. It was no different from my childhood in Rhodesia – quite spooky.

On the way back to tropical paradise we stopped at a little lake to allow me to experiment with my eski & stubbie.

And yes this is a plant.

On Saturday we hired a large white stinking-rich type yacht to take us to the far edge of the great barrier reef just where the continental shelf kicks in. The faint hearted should read no further. When the vessel slowed as we reached one of the wilder reef sites the captain offered us the diving with octopus option. Guess who said yes straight away. Here I’m trying to free Danger-Woman from the clutches of the Greater Australian Pink-Tentacled Octopus. As if that wasn’t scary enough she went straight for the ‘once in a life-time’ swimming with sharks option.

And here she is looking happy as Larry after her nautical exploits.

We have been in Australia for some time now so we are well placed to make a few observations about the culture of this great country. Indeed, we have taken this part of our reportage so seriously we engaged in extensive pre-travel research at Tesco’s South Queensferry Australian wine shelf.

There is a popular misconception that Australians wander around singing operatic arias all day. This stems from the iconic status of Sydney’s truly beautiful Opera House. Believe me, most Aussies can’t sing for toffee – particularly the man in the room next door.

One of the great Australian pastimes is having a ‘barbie’. You can find these structures all over the land and they are free to use (just turn on the electric or gas and away you go). Here you see a fair sized Golden Snapper (stuffed with coriander & parsley) gently baking to go with tatties and a nice green salad on the side. Apologies for the fuzzy image – Sian was experimenting with taking pictures whilst holding a glass of chilled chardonnay and the camera in the same hand.

You may find it interesting to compare how this is done in Scotland. For a start it’s not 32C and it’s not tropical sunshine - no - it’s bloody raining again. That’s what led me to invent the Brady Barbrella (patent pending).

Australian men are sports daft. However, they can become a little confused. They all hate the Poms (fair enough), but - then - every Sunday afternoon they pretend they are English. All togged out in white (as if they are medical orderlies) they set about playing the cricket. As if that wasn’t shameful enough they also play at the rugga.

This behaviour is all the more mysterious as they have a perfectly good sport of their own. And it better suits the Aussie character. It’s called AFL or Australian football. The aim of the game is unclear. With about 28 players a side charging about, they have no boundaries, the playing zone is as much grass as the stadium has and they get to thump, kick and throw the ball in any direction (disputes are settled by a punch in the face). But they enjoy it like hell (so do the Sheilas on account of the scanty tight fitting strip).

I met the Hawthorn Hawks top kicker and their coach at a recent sporting event. They gave me a signed stubbie holder (more Aussie culture). I’m a Hawks fan for life – maybe the only one in Scotland.

Finally, the Australian sense of humour. The sign below is a warning about jelly fish that kill you – no ifs or buts – get stung and you are dead. Notwithstanding, this dire warning, they assume you will ignore it and when you dash out of the sea in agony they suggest you cover yourself in the vinegar provided before you lie down and die smelling like a fish supper.

As we prepare to say farewell to Sydney we decided to buy an all-day ticket on the City Monorail so we could whirl round the circuit endless times at ever diminishing cost per trip (I just know that Mr Menzies our Bank of Scotland Manager will approve).

But way before that at about 6am SuperSurferGran was in the Internet-Café rubbing shoulders with people on skate-boards and fallen crutch pants.

After about 35 circuits the staff took pity on us and gave us a tartan blanket to cover or knees.

The driver succumbed to Sian's charms and handed the controls over to her – instantly she revved up the speed. It was only moments later that the driver broke into a sweat as it dawned on him that he had handed the controls to Danger-Woman.

Mercifully they are yet to rig up a bungy jump off this one.

We had a jolly fine day on the monorail so I was a little embarrassed when Sian decided to barricade herself in the monorail as part of ‘Save the Whale Week’. As you can see the staff struggled to get her out – I have left out the pictures of the Sydney Police escorting her to the cells.

And finally, by chance I happened upon the Bank of Scotland’s Sydney branch. I immediately demanded an appointment with the local version of Mr Menzies only to be told he had just jumped off the top of this building due to yet another stock crash. Perhaps there is a God after all.

Sorry to cast a small gloom over the proceedings but we are all impacted in some way by the banks' shortage of money and should be understanding about the need for economy measures. In the present climate who can blame the Bank of Scotland for suspending my well stocked bank account. After all I am in Australia and you can never be too careful – perhaps I was lying when I told them (before I left the UK) exactly where I would be at any given time.

If you ever need to test your karma try this. Get up in the middle of the night in – say Australia – phone a UK bank on a mobile phone and go through a large menu of inappropriate tape recorded options. Eventually, when you think you are through to someone with a body to go with their voice, explain you are on a mobile from Australia and tell them about your predicament. Then test how much you are ‘at-one-with-yourself’ when she says “hold on” and plays jaunty music as your credit rapidly drains away.

On the theme of economy measures Sian has found a new way of testing out hats without having to buy them first.

You can also save a wad of money by not walking up Sydney Bridge. For one tenth of the price you can go up one of the towers, sip a nice glass of chilled chardonnay and watch as rich people (like Bank of Scotland managers) struggle to the top.

We have enjoyed the most wonderful warm balmy weather here in Sydney so travelling economy class around Sydney Harbour on ferries (seven-day saver rate) has been no great hardship. Yesterday we went to Manly which is buzzing with street entertainment and the usual show of flesh and surf boards being cool on the white beaches. Being Scottish we decided to go for a long walk. The view of the harbour from North Head is quite stunning.

Sian has been going on about whales ever since we arrived. But it’s the end of the season so we thought our chances of seeing any were slim. So imagine her delight when the path led us to Helen who was busy doing whale research for the local university. She gave us a pair of strong binoculars each and pointed us in the direction of some humpback mother and calves blowing and breaching (right out of the water and flopping on their backs).

By the time we sailed into Circular Quay the light was fading.

The next day we bay hopped our way to Watson Bay which is at the other side of the headlands which enclose Sydney Harbour. So as to save the Bank of Scotland some money we got the bus back to the city and had a modestly priced banquet in China Town.

When I find out what road we take to hitch-hike to Cairns I’ll let you know how we get on.

We have a nice apartment on the edge of Chinatown here in Sydney. No unpacking cases for the next seven nights – whoopee. Darling Harbour is just up the road so we have been watching the world go by – ships and boats and planes and the horribly young with correctly shaped bodies.

Within minutes of our arrival Sian had discovered and was rummaging around in Sydney’s Paddy’s market. She bought what must be the most ludicrous hat in Australia (if not the world).

Here’s the red hat at Taronga Zoo. Sian is taking pictures of this cute baby Koala whilst being jostled by thousands of Sydney school kids.

This is Sydney from the zoo.

And now a hair solution for all you ladies in Edinburgh (you know who you are) who get charged £80 a cut by a certain Edinburgh lady barber.

The next day we went to Bondi beach. Sian needed lasting evidence of her presence.

Danger-Woman was in action again. She is trying to pretend that she is practising for the rip-tide surfing but let me tell you the only beings in danger here are the hunky Bondi beach lifeguards you see fleeing in the background.

Finally, I have at last found a way to make my fortune. Arrangements are already in hand for the grand Australian opening of my next money making venture. 'Brady’s Bar' (finest wines and beers) will open on 23rd January next year.

The direction in which we are travelling around Australia was determined by the timing of the Melbourne Cup.

To mark the occasion we stayed a couple of nights in a Melbourne designer hotel complete with thoroughly impractical angular seats. However, the staff provide a pre-bedtime rub down with warm aromatic oils - altogether less shocking to the senses.

This is ‘the’ event of the year in Australia and we were lucky to have the help of Dale and Diane to get us tickets for the full days racing at Flemington.

There’s a real carnival atmosphere in Melbourne in the run up to the Cup. Here’s some pics of people getting ready for the parade the day before (we walked into all this by accident).

Followers of fashion might note that Sian produced a brand new outfit complete with mini-hat for the event. I think it was sneaked into the extra case that does nothing but cart her shoes from place to place around the world.

We arrived early to secure a table in our private tented area. It was not long before we got the day of to a flying start with a bottle of vintage champagne. Pity our early horse selections were not similarly ‘fleeing’. But more of that later.

Flemington is a first class race track with an amazing view of Melbourne city as the backdrop. On the day everyone gets togged up and the colour, weird outfits and general merriment of over 100,000 race-goers creates a fantastic atmosphere.

Early on the betting record was not so good with only a few modest place wins to keep the ship afloat. But come the eighth race my superior horse selecting skills shone through and ‘Annenkov’ stormed past the winning post. But this was not the end of my good fortune. When placing our bets at the tote window I had suffered a momentary lapse of memory (nothing to do with Boags stubbies) and bet twice on the same horse. Instead of one $5 each way ticket I had placed two producing a handsome $170 towards the entertainment fund.

Next stop Sydney.

We arrived at Melbourne airport in 29C of heat. Phew.

It was getting dark so we had to dash to Geelong in our free upgraded sporty car (strong approval from Danger-Woman).

Checking into our motel involved shining my main beam car headlight into a dark passageway so that essential information could be exchanged between the proprietor and I over a small phone nailed to the wall. I will spare you the details save to say I was well ready for the merest moothfie by the time I made it to our room.

Following a hearty breakfast (Australians have yet to discover ‘portion control’) we took the easy way out and posed with some of the wooden statues that occupy the rather sophisticated waterfront (nice tip Derek).

We had sunshine to watch trainee surfers in Torquay at the start of the Great Ocean Road. Where we also discovered the irritating Australian fly – sluggish - easy to kill – but endless supply.

On our way down the weather turned foul. But this made the seascape even more spectacular – huge waves crashing onto beaches and rock formations.

We stayed the night at Apollo Bay. Next morning, we woke up to a vehicle that would not start - somebody had broken into the car and switched the parking lights on so as to drain the battery. Strange things these Aussies do.

Several pies later we arrived at the Otway Tree Top Fly Walk. Warning – the faint hearted should stop reading this episode now. Not content with running up the wobbly Tower of Terror – Danger-Woman decided that abseiling down the world’s tallest tree was the very thing.

We stayed the night at Port Campbell just after we went to the twelve apostles (originally called the Sow & Piglets) on a glorious sunny evening.

And this is an amazing formation called the grotto.

Finally, Danger-Woman prepares her toes for the Melbourne Cup. I dread to think what they will make of mine at the toe inspection point on the way into the races.

Due to circumstances beyond our control - Aussie airline ‘Virgin Blue’ (yes - it’s that bearded twit) – decided to cancel our afternoon flight to Melbourne and put us on a flight two hours earlier in the morning. One minor problem – they forgot to tell us.

Notwithstanding, the local ‘Virgin Blue’ manager ruled that we were at fault as he had called out our names to get on the flight we didn’t know about and we failed to materialise. Don’t try to persuade me that he wasn’t headhunted from ‘Ryanair.’

Never mind the four hours wait gave us time to visit the gorge at Launceston for a fine lunch, a hurl on the world’s longest span chair lift and a bridge dive.

My brother John and I look on as Dale takes a swoop at a Tassie burger. And the moral is - don’t order a burger in Tasmania unless you are really, really, exceptionally hungry.

Here is Sian preparing for her gorge leap. Let’s hope we make it intact to Melbourne – the Cup and the Great Ocean Road.