23 February – 8 March, Melbourne and Mornington Peninsula to Adelaide
The early train: Car B, row 5, seats A and B. The only apparent difference between first class and coach is the price of the ticket… It’s a full train with regular stops along the route. It’s 900 kilometers to Melbourne and the trip will take just over 10 hours. Wonga Wonga is on the way, as is Murrumburra, Cootamundra, Wodonga, and Wangaratta. The landscape is rolling brown hills. As far as the eye can see, the arid scrub grass h
as been bikini waxed by sheep and rabbits. There is the occasional small copse of gum trees. The train is smooth and quiet, with a rhythmic sway that leads to an unavoidable deep REM state. The biggest challenge is avoiding drooling while being wrapped in this motion-induced coma. We reach the mandatory suburban skirting en route to Melbourne’s Southern Cross station. Population density quickly increases, as do the number of roads, shopping centers, and the like. From the condition of the landscape it is very apparent that the entire state has been dry for quite some time.
We had originally met Christine on the sailing cruise we took a couple of years ago, and are now more than happy to enjoy her hospitality… She picks us up at the station and we head off to a small group birthday dinner across town. It is a fun bunch, and despite our travel weariness, we manage to enjoy both the food (good Thai) and the company. We had noticed the drivers in the group carefully tracking their drinks. Despite the (deserved) Ozzie rep as hard partiers, the drink-driving laws are strict and inflexible. .05 is the limit. No exceptions. All alcoholic beverages have a “drinks equivalent” number on the side, based on a percentage alcohol and body mass baseline formula. Men apply the formula differently than women, and overall it turns out to be surprisingly accurate. On the way home we get waived through a DD (meaning Drink Driving here) check-station. Point made.
Christine lives about an hours drive south, around Port Phillip Bay from Melbourne proper in the
small bayside town of Mornington. Port Phillip Bay was the original commercial harbour for the country. It still handles the lion’s share of container shipping. This is, of course, shared with a harbour that contains a variety of unique indigenous sea life. The harbour itself is, for all intents and purposes, a flooded lowland river basin: circular in shape, more or less 35 miles in diameter, with an average depth of 10 meters. Warm and shallow. Lots and lots of marine recreation: Sailing, jet skis, diving, fishing (commercial and recreational), swimming, etc. Commercial and recreational ventures inevitably clash with environmental ideals.
The most current Hotpoint issue is the dredging of the shipping lanes. Those for the dredging use logic, scientific studies, and demonstrable economic analysis to provide information for people to make a decision on the issue. So far, those against have used incredibly faulty math and highly emotional positioning. One of the strongest arguments against: Digging up the mud from the channels and piling it anywhere else in the harbour will raise the water level high enough to flood the beaches and homes along the perimeter. This incredible display of disconnected logic pains me to no end.
We have had the pleasure of meeting Hans and Rose. Hans is from Germany, Rose is from Turkey. Both had immigrated to Oz back in the 60’s, before they met. While everyone has a story, Hans’ is one you don’t hear about much nowadays: Hans was a 20-year-old policeman in Berlin the day the Wall was erected. He had been living in communist East Berlin for almost a decade before the Wall, and to this day has a less than positive opinion of forced socialism. He was fortunate to have been staying with relatives on the west side, though he had actually lived in the east. His fiancé lived in the east. When they finished visiting the prior evening they had no idea they would never see each other again.
He and a number of other young policemen were assigned to the “border” that first day. The wall started as a swath of cleared land with a continuous strand of coiled barbed wire. These confused young men were standing in a line, facing East Berlin, as Russian tanks took position along the opposite side. Hans still recalls the rumble of the Allied tanks taking position behind him to face their counterparts. He described the smells and sounds as if it were yesterday, and the gut dropping awareness that the Russian tank barrels had lowered. They were pointed directly at him, as he and his fellows were between them and the Allied tanks. It was then he realized the Allied tanks had responded in kind. A number of policemen choose to take a hasty and unrequited leave of absence at that particular moment. He held his position. Ideologically he agreed with the Allied position and was willing to support its actions. After a few years of living in a divided city he moved on to Oz. He still has a very high opinion of the US and the Allies, regularly arguing the better points of the US with his friends and co-workers. He was delighted to meet us.
We had a quick tour of Melbourne proper. They have a great central market. It’s a chaotic blend of Sunday flea market, discount shopping, things that have “fallen of the truck”, food stalls and butcher shops. JD finds a replacement for his “Gilligan” hat; a nice vented leather “drovers” hat. Much better UV coverage. Dashingly enhanced image, outback rugged even.
Smart individuals may occasionally people local governments, but collectively they create an entity with the intelligence of the average garden snail. A prime local example: The state of Victoria (as most of the southern part of the county) has been in an extended and devastating 5-year drought. Some locations have not had any rainfall in almost ten years. Watering restrictions have been place: 1 hour of watering on Saturdays only, short showers, car washes only at approved facilities that recycle the water, etc. If you have a hot tub/spa, you can only top it up with hand carried buckets (So you won’t leave the hose running accidentally…). Some locations, like the area Christine lives, do get rain. Not a lot, but enough to prevent complete devastation of the plants. One would think- Rain Cistern for outdoor water? Solar panels for hot water and home heating? Nope… It costs AU$30,000 in permits and fees to get solar panels approved. Cisterns are also heavily regulated with fees and restrictions. The local council feels that the loss of water and electrical revenue from these conservatory actions is worse for the economy than the need to actually conserve the resource.
We had an opportunity to sail! We love to sail! The local yacht club has a social sail Thursday regatta. It’s a casual evening race. The price to be “rail meat” is a six-pack of stubbies (cans ‘o beer) and some snacks. Rail meat, for the sailing uninitiated, are the passengers who get to sit on the high rail to allow the skipper to take more wind in the sail without heeling over, or specifically positioned around the boat to change bow or stern angles to change speed. Noel Hayes, a retired importer/exporter, captained our boat: the Room2Roam. It was a 30 footer with a swing keel and carried Christine, an older bloke Garry, us and Noel’s normal “crew” of Scott. Scott has been crewing for Noel since October in the weekend sails. (Those are the ones that count…). Noel’s entire family sails, and his son was the tactician on the winning Sydney to Hobart race yacht. There were about 70+ boats, of all layouts and configurations. The Thursday race doesn’t allow spinnakers, as the boats tend to be full of inexperienced “crew”. We had been in the middle of the pack for the first turn, and Noel decided to try a wide swing on the downwind leg to push us through the second turn with more oomph. He didn’t time it quite perfectly… we crossed the finish second to last. As we were all getting on well, he decided continued our little cruise to watch the moonrise and sunset. A favorite Ozzie pastime, next to drinking and having fun, is discussing politics. Theirs, ours, anyone’s. Noel and Garry where on opposite sides of the local political spectrum. After realizing they wouldn’t agree, the talk shifted to entertaining past Prime Ministers. Apparently the shortest time serving PM, Bob Hawk, also holds the Guinness world record for quantity of beer consumed in the shortest period of time essentially making him the world’s fastest beer chugger. The interesting thing about his departure was his ability to be ousted by his own party within weeks of taking office.
Mornington is not a protected harbour so all boats are hauled out every evening, and put back in when the owner wants to sail. They have been trying to get council approval to build a breakwater for just over 100 years… The members are all confident it will happen eventually.
We’ve had a good week and a half of decompressing. Casual trips to the local wineries, markets
and hedge mazes kept things very low key. The whirlwind of NZ and changing addresses daily was more tiring than we had realized. We ended up taking this extra time so we could join Christine on a visit to her cousin in Adelaide, South Australia.
Some Observations of our cousins Down Under:
Since almost everything that lives here can kill you just by looking at it, Ozzies have shortened as many words as they can. This is so they can be sure to say as much as possible during this short journey we call life. I’m going to list a number of Ozzie words, the interpretations will posted further on. See how many you can guess…
Brekkie...... Bickie...... Bikkie
Parma........ Tassie..... Ozzie
Chrissie...... Tram ........Pram
Trolley......... Nappy .......Bluey
Footie......... Thong .......Stinger
Ta .................Tuck .........Poppet
Pokie.......... Lollie.......... Sunnies
Roo’s .........Cray’s........ Nippers
Ambo
The Bush is any wild area not considered yard. “How’r ya goin’?” is much more common than “G’Day”. Milo is a malt chocolate mix, similar to Ovaltine, and flavors many many things chocolate. Ozzies claim responsibility for the Pie Floater: any meat pie, floating in a bowl of pea(?) soup (Though I think it’s really British).
If you ask a question to which the answer is unknown (here or NZ), the response will almost always be “I don’t knoooeew” with a drawn out rising inflection on the “know”. It creates an idea that the person not only feels that they should know, but that they are incredibly confused as to why they don’t. Embarrassed even. Accompanied by a facial expression that implies the whole thought will be meditated upon, pondered, and otherwise given over to every spare brain cell available.
A poached egg can, and does, appear on almost any dish: Sandwiches, burgers, Caesar salad, pizza, just about anywhere. Bacon too (What we consider Canadian style, only fattier- “middle shoulder” is the cut).
Speaking of our northern neighbor, both KK and JD are almost always taken to be Canadian. It seems that our accents are very “soft”, and are easily confused with the top third of our continent. Surprisingly enough, the only people to recognize our accent right away, always, are Germans. We have actually been thanked a few times for being understandable. The Germans tend to have a harder time with Ozzie English than American English. Why? I don’t knooeew…
We get to travel through the bush on our way to Adelaide. Western Victoria is normally the most lush and verdant region of the state. At the moment it is brown. Dry and brown. Tens of thousands of acres of pastureland are scrub and dust. Many of the ranchers and farmers have had to give up their livelihood. Interestingly enough the indigenous flora and fauna seem to be getting along well enough. Most of the local wildlife have adapted to these cyclical drought conditions. Hibernation, conditional birthing, dietary modifications and opportunism are the native survival traits. Staying off pavement when traffic is present hasn’t worked into the formula yet. The gum trees look like life-size bonsai.
We stopped off at Narrapumelap. It is the old estate of a Scottish-Polish rancher of the late 1800’s
. 
The current family has owned the land since the 1950’s. Vandals had worked the place over good until the 1980’s.The son of the current owners, Kevin, has spent the last fifteen years restoring the original building. It has been his “hobby”, working weekends and such. Kimberly has reworked her vision of our next house. Stone walls, seasonal ivy and a tower are now the prime design elements…
A day was spent in the Grampians. They are an old mountain range that was hit by some devastating wildfires about a year and a half ago. A medium intensity 10 kilometer round trip hike took us to a nice peak. Four or five school field trips also made the trek. Even in Oz chaperones should be nominated for sainthood. 
Ozzie flies are as equally annoying as their NZ brethren, just without the teeth. As persistent as they are, they don’t bite. They may spend fifteen minutes landing and taking off one specific spot on your eyeball, inside your nostril, or inside your ear, but hey, they don’t bite…. The reward was some great views from the ridges. The rock climbing was all trad, and above our pay grade. We did get to see wild ‘roos, and thankfully not with the front of our car.
There are koala and roo warning signs posted along the highways. Dusk to dawn is quite the obstacle course, and the roadsides are littered with the losers. An adult roo can easily total a smaller car, and they are not the brightest critters out there. (Think deer that hop on two feet…) We never did see any koala along the road, live or otherwise. JD thinks the signs are there to keep kids busy on long drives: “Oi, poppets, keep an eye to the gums an’ let mum know if you see any koala’s…” (“Children, watch the eucalyptus trees and tell 
your mother if you spot any koala’s…”) You can easily tell the cars of the natives. Floridians all have large plastic bug deflectors; folks who live in the bush have steel roll-bar front-end cages. When (not if…) they collide with a large marsupial there is minimal damage to their vehicle. Sort of like the cattle/buffalo guard on old steam locomotives.
The posted speed limits have no grace. You can be, and many are, ticketed for even one over. The limits in the bush are a somewhat reasonable 110kph, and you don’t travel faster than that after dusk anyway. Distances are vast. It is easy to travel 80 or 100 kilometers without the hint of people, and this is the main road between Melbourne and Adelaide.
OK. Here are your Ozzie English answers:
Brekkie (Breakfast)
Bickie (pronounced Bye-key: Motorcycle- as in Hells Angels bickie club)
Bikkie (Biscuit, cookie)
Parma (Chicken Parmesan)
Tassie (Tasmania)
Ozzie (Australian)
Chrissie (Christmas)
Tram (Local in-city surface train)
Pram (Baby carriage)
Trolley (Shopping cart)
Nappy (Diaper)
Bluey (Portuguese Man ‘O War)
Footie (Australian rules football- Considered a religion in South Australia)
Thong (Flip-flops, sandals- “No Thongs” signs do not refer to undergarments…)
Stinger (Box jellyfish- can be deadly, and often is)
Ta (Thanks, good bye, have a nice day)
Tuck (to Eat- “Tuck into that pie floater”, tucker is food: “Ice cream is good tucker”)
Poppet (Munchkin, younger child)
Pokie (Video gambling machines, similar to video slots)
Lollie (Any kind of hard or soft candies)
Sunnies (Sunglasses)
Roo’s (Kangaroos, young ones are Joeys)
Cray’s (Australian spiny lobster, good tucker, runs about AU$52/Kilo)
Nipper (teenage surfer, lifeguard trainee)
Ambo (Ambulance)
We roll into Adelaide in the late afternoon. We are here in time for both the Adelaide Fringe Festival and WOMADelaide. It should be a highly entertaining weekend. We are staying with Christine’s cousin Suzanne, her hubby Rob and the kids: Christen and Kane.
The early train: Car B, row 5, seats A and B. The only apparent difference between first class and coach is the price of the ticket… It’s a full train with regular stops along the route. It’s 900 kilometers to Melbourne and the trip will take just over 10 hours. Wonga Wonga is on the way, as is Murrumburra, Cootamundra, Wodonga, and Wangaratta. The landscape is rolling brown hills. As far as the eye can see, the arid scrub grass h
as been bikini waxed by sheep and rabbits. There is the occasional small copse of gum trees. The train is smooth and quiet, with a rhythmic sway that leads to an unavoidable deep REM state. The biggest challenge is avoiding drooling while being wrapped in this motion-induced coma. We reach the mandatory suburban skirting en route to Melbourne’s Southern Cross station. Population density quickly increases, as do the number of roads, shopping centers, and the like. From the condition of the landscape it is very apparent that the entire state has been dry for quite some time.We had originally met Christine on the sailing cruise we took a couple of years ago, and are now more than happy to enjoy her hospitality… She picks us up at the station and we head off to a small group birthday dinner across town. It is a fun bunch, and despite our travel weariness, we manage to enjoy both the food (good Thai) and the company. We had noticed the drivers in the group carefully tracking their drinks. Despite the (deserved) Ozzie rep as hard partiers, the drink-driving laws are strict and inflexible. .05 is the limit. No exceptions. All alcoholic beverages have a “drinks equivalent” number on the side, based on a percentage alcohol and body mass baseline formula. Men apply the formula differently than women, and overall it turns out to be surprisingly accurate. On the way home we get waived through a DD (meaning Drink Driving here) check-station. Point made.
Christine lives about an hours drive south, around Port Phillip Bay from Melbourne proper in the
small bayside town of Mornington. Port Phillip Bay was the original commercial harbour for the country. It still handles the lion’s share of container shipping. This is, of course, shared with a harbour that contains a variety of unique indigenous sea life. The harbour itself is, for all intents and purposes, a flooded lowland river basin: circular in shape, more or less 35 miles in diameter, with an average depth of 10 meters. Warm and shallow. Lots and lots of marine recreation: Sailing, jet skis, diving, fishing (commercial and recreational), swimming, etc. Commercial and recreational ventures inevitably clash with environmental ideals.The most current Hotpoint issue is the dredging of the shipping lanes. Those for the dredging use logic, scientific studies, and demonstrable economic analysis to provide information for people to make a decision on the issue. So far, those against have used incredibly faulty math and highly emotional positioning. One of the strongest arguments against: Digging up the mud from the channels and piling it anywhere else in the harbour will raise the water level high enough to flood the beaches and homes along the perimeter. This incredible display of disconnected logic pains me to no end.
We have had the pleasure of meeting Hans and Rose. Hans is from Germany, Rose is from Turkey. Both had immigrated to Oz back in the 60’s, before they met. While everyone has a story, Hans’ is one you don’t hear about much nowadays: Hans was a 20-year-old policeman in Berlin the day the Wall was erected. He had been living in communist East Berlin for almost a decade before the Wall, and to this day has a less than positive opinion of forced socialism. He was fortunate to have been staying with relatives on the west side, though he had actually lived in the east. His fiancé lived in the east. When they finished visiting the prior evening they had no idea they would never see each other again.
He and a number of other young policemen were assigned to the “border” that first day. The wall started as a swath of cleared land with a continuous strand of coiled barbed wire. These confused young men were standing in a line, facing East Berlin, as Russian tanks took position along the opposite side. Hans still recalls the rumble of the Allied tanks taking position behind him to face their counterparts. He described the smells and sounds as if it were yesterday, and the gut dropping awareness that the Russian tank barrels had lowered. They were pointed directly at him, as he and his fellows were between them and the Allied tanks. It was then he realized the Allied tanks had responded in kind. A number of policemen choose to take a hasty and unrequited leave of absence at that particular moment. He held his position. Ideologically he agreed with the Allied position and was willing to support its actions. After a few years of living in a divided city he moved on to Oz. He still has a very high opinion of the US and the Allies, regularly arguing the better points of the US with his friends and co-workers. He was delighted to meet us.
We had a quick tour of Melbourne proper. They have a great central market. It’s a chaotic blend of Sunday flea market, discount shopping, things that have “fallen of the truck”, food stalls and butcher shops. JD finds a replacement for his “Gilligan” hat; a nice vented leather “drovers” hat. Much better UV coverage. Dashingly enhanced image, outback rugged even.
Smart individuals may occasionally people local governments, but collectively they create an entity with the intelligence of the average garden snail. A prime local example: The state of Victoria (as most of the southern part of the county) has been in an extended and devastating 5-year drought. Some locations have not had any rainfall in almost ten years. Watering restrictions have been place: 1 hour of watering on Saturdays only, short showers, car washes only at approved facilities that recycle the water, etc. If you have a hot tub/spa, you can only top it up with hand carried buckets (So you won’t leave the hose running accidentally…). Some locations, like the area Christine lives, do get rain. Not a lot, but enough to prevent complete devastation of the plants. One would think- Rain Cistern for outdoor water? Solar panels for hot water and home heating? Nope… It costs AU$30,000 in permits and fees to get solar panels approved. Cisterns are also heavily regulated with fees and restrictions. The local council feels that the loss of water and electrical revenue from these conservatory actions is worse for the economy than the need to actually conserve the resource.
We had an opportunity to sail! We love to sail! The local yacht club has a social sail Thursday regatta. It’s a casual evening race. The price to be “rail meat” is a six-pack of stubbies (cans ‘o beer) and some snacks. Rail meat, for the sailing uninitiated, are the passengers who get to sit on the high rail to allow the skipper to take more wind in the sail without heeling over, or specifically positioned around the boat to change bow or stern angles to change speed. Noel Hayes, a retired importer/exporter, captained our boat: the Room2Roam. It was a 30 footer with a swing keel and carried Christine, an older bloke Garry, us and Noel’s normal “crew” of Scott. Scott has been crewing for Noel since October in the weekend sails. (Those are the ones that count…). Noel’s entire family sails, and his son was the tactician on the winning Sydney to Hobart race yacht. There were about 70+ boats, of all layouts and configurations. The Thursday race doesn’t allow spinnakers, as the boats tend to be full of inexperienced “crew”. We had been in the middle of the pack for the first turn, and Noel decided to try a wide swing on the downwind leg to push us through the second turn with more oomph. He didn’t time it quite perfectly… we crossed the finish second to last. As we were all getting on well, he decided continued our little cruise to watch the moonrise and sunset. A favorite Ozzie pastime, next to drinking and having fun, is discussing politics. Theirs, ours, anyone’s. Noel and Garry where on opposite sides of the local political spectrum. After realizing they wouldn’t agree, the talk shifted to entertaining past Prime Ministers. Apparently the shortest time serving PM, Bob Hawk, also holds the Guinness world record for quantity of beer consumed in the shortest period of time essentially making him the world’s fastest beer chugger. The interesting thing about his departure was his ability to be ousted by his own party within weeks of taking office.
Mornington is not a protected harbour so all boats are hauled out every evening, and put back in when the owner wants to sail. They have been trying to get council approval to build a breakwater for just over 100 years… The members are all confident it will happen eventually.
We’ve had a good week and a half of decompressing. Casual trips to the local wineries, markets
and hedge mazes kept things very low key. The whirlwind of NZ and changing addresses daily was more tiring than we had realized. We ended up taking this extra time so we could join Christine on a visit to her cousin in Adelaide, South Australia.Some Observations of our cousins Down Under:
Since almost everything that lives here can kill you just by looking at it, Ozzies have shortened as many words as they can. This is so they can be sure to say as much as possible during this short journey we call life. I’m going to list a number of Ozzie words, the interpretations will posted further on. See how many you can guess…
Brekkie...... Bickie...... Bikkie
Parma........ Tassie..... Ozzie
Chrissie...... Tram ........Pram
Trolley......... Nappy .......Bluey
Footie......... Thong .......Stinger
Ta .................Tuck .........Poppet
Pokie.......... Lollie.......... Sunnies
Roo’s .........Cray’s........ Nippers
Ambo
The Bush is any wild area not considered yard. “How’r ya goin’?” is much more common than “G’Day”. Milo is a malt chocolate mix, similar to Ovaltine, and flavors many many things chocolate. Ozzies claim responsibility for the Pie Floater: any meat pie, floating in a bowl of pea(?) soup (Though I think it’s really British).
If you ask a question to which the answer is unknown (here or NZ), the response will almost always be “I don’t knoooeew” with a drawn out rising inflection on the “know”. It creates an idea that the person not only feels that they should know, but that they are incredibly confused as to why they don’t. Embarrassed even. Accompanied by a facial expression that implies the whole thought will be meditated upon, pondered, and otherwise given over to every spare brain cell available.
A poached egg can, and does, appear on almost any dish: Sandwiches, burgers, Caesar salad, pizza, just about anywhere. Bacon too (What we consider Canadian style, only fattier- “middle shoulder” is the cut).Speaking of our northern neighbor, both KK and JD are almost always taken to be Canadian. It seems that our accents are very “soft”, and are easily confused with the top third of our continent. Surprisingly enough, the only people to recognize our accent right away, always, are Germans. We have actually been thanked a few times for being understandable. The Germans tend to have a harder time with Ozzie English than American English. Why? I don’t knooeew…
We get to travel through the bush on our way to Adelaide. Western Victoria is normally the most lush and verdant region of the state. At the moment it is brown. Dry and brown. Tens of thousands of acres of pastureland are scrub and dust. Many of the ranchers and farmers have had to give up their livelihood. Interestingly enough the indigenous flora and fauna seem to be getting along well enough. Most of the local wildlife have adapted to these cyclical drought conditions. Hibernation, conditional birthing, dietary modifications and opportunism are the native survival traits. Staying off pavement when traffic is present hasn’t worked into the formula yet. The gum trees look like life-size bonsai.
We stopped off at Narrapumelap. It is the old estate of a Scottish-Polish rancher of the late 1800’s
. 
The current family has owned the land since the 1950’s. Vandals had worked the place over good until the 1980’s.The son of the current owners, Kevin, has spent the last fifteen years restoring the original building. It has been his “hobby”, working weekends and such. Kimberly has reworked her vision of our next house. Stone walls, seasonal ivy and a tower are now the prime design elements…
A day was spent in the Grampians. They are an old mountain range that was hit by some devastating wildfires about a year and a half ago. A medium intensity 10 kilometer round trip hike took us to a nice peak. Four or five school field trips also made the trek. Even in Oz chaperones should be nominated for sainthood. 
Ozzie flies are as equally annoying as their NZ brethren, just without the teeth. As persistent as they are, they don’t bite. They may spend fifteen minutes landing and taking off one specific spot on your eyeball, inside your nostril, or inside your ear, but hey, they don’t bite…. The reward was some great views from the ridges. The rock climbing was all trad, and above our pay grade. We did get to see wild ‘roos, and thankfully not with the front of our car.
There are koala and roo warning signs posted along the highways. Dusk to dawn is quite the obstacle course, and the roadsides are littered with the losers. An adult roo can easily total a smaller car, and they are not the brightest critters out there. (Think deer that hop on two feet…) We never did see any koala along the road, live or otherwise. JD thinks the signs are there to keep kids busy on long drives: “Oi, poppets, keep an eye to the gums an’ let mum know if you see any koala’s…” (“Children, watch the eucalyptus trees and tell 
your mother if you spot any koala’s…”) You can easily tell the cars of the natives. Floridians all have large plastic bug deflectors; folks who live in the bush have steel roll-bar front-end cages. When (not if…) they collide with a large marsupial there is minimal damage to their vehicle. Sort of like the cattle/buffalo guard on old steam locomotives.The posted speed limits have no grace. You can be, and many are, ticketed for even one over. The limits in the bush are a somewhat reasonable 110kph, and you don’t travel faster than that after dusk anyway. Distances are vast. It is easy to travel 80 or 100 kilometers without the hint of people, and this is the main road between Melbourne and Adelaide.
OK. Here are your Ozzie English answers:
Brekkie (Breakfast)
Bickie (pronounced Bye-key: Motorcycle- as in Hells Angels bickie club)
Bikkie (Biscuit, cookie)
Parma (Chicken Parmesan)
Tassie (Tasmania)
Ozzie (Australian)
Chrissie (Christmas)
Tram (Local in-city surface train)
Pram (Baby carriage)
Trolley (Shopping cart)
Nappy (Diaper)
Bluey (Portuguese Man ‘O War)
Footie (Australian rules football- Considered a religion in South Australia)
Thong (Flip-flops, sandals- “No Thongs” signs do not refer to undergarments…)
Stinger (Box jellyfish- can be deadly, and often is)
Ta (Thanks, good bye, have a nice day)
Tuck (to Eat- “Tuck into that pie floater”, tucker is food: “Ice cream is good tucker”)
Poppet (Munchkin, younger child)
Pokie (Video gambling machines, similar to video slots)
Lollie (Any kind of hard or soft candies)
Sunnies (Sunglasses)
Roo’s (Kangaroos, young ones are Joeys)
Cray’s (Australian spiny lobster, good tucker, runs about AU$52/Kilo)
Nipper (teenage surfer, lifeguard trainee)
Ambo (Ambulance)
We roll into Adelaide in the late afternoon. We are here in time for both the Adelaide Fringe Festival and WOMADelaide. It should be a highly entertaining weekend. We are staying with Christine’s cousin Suzanne, her hubby Rob and the kids: Christen and Kane.
