Franz Josef village - one shop, one garage and one big glacier. Glacier Ka Roimata o Hine Hukatere or Tears of the Avalanche Girl gets its name from the Maori legend of the girl who loved to walk in the mountains and whose lover fell to his death from a high peak. The glacier was formed from her frozen flood of tears. It is 11km long and is only one of three glaciers in the world that descends into rainforest. They get up to 8 metres of rain here every year and this falls as snow in the neve (the vast snow-collecting basin at the head of the glacier) which is quickly compressed into new ice by subsequent snowfall. It takes about 5 years for the glacier to travel from neve to the terminal face.
It was on this great big ice cube that we had chosen to spend a day glacier hiking. Those of you that have witnessed my past hapless attempts at skiing, skating, rollerblading or anything that does not involve two firm footholds will be amazed that I even contemplated such a potentially disastrous and slippery activity but it was something that I really wanted to have a go at.
So at 8.00am, along with another few dozen would be Hillary's and Tensing's, we reported in for the big one - the Full Day Glacier Adventure. Some looked really excited and rearing to go whilst others stood quietly by the side of excited partners, no doubt contemplating their fate, just like me. Before being kitted out we were shown a binder full of photos of the likely terrain we would encounter on the hike and sign a disclaimer. The first few pages showed photos of huge rocks with chain ladders and ropes hanging off them and this was only the bush trek to the face of the glacier! Photos followed of faces peering up from crevasses and people halfway up (or it could have been down, I've no idea which) a near vertical icy wall and other scary images. I took a deep breath and signed ...
First came the extremely flattering overtrousers, then the thick woolly socks and clumpy boots which were matched up with a pair of ice spikes called Talonz which we would carry to the glacier in a bum-bag (or if you had your own personal sherpa like I did, he would carry them for you). Then came the windproof jacket worn over four thin layers, all topped off with a beanie hat and mittens that were so big I could fit my whole hand into the thumb-hole! Before we got on the bus we were divided into two groups. People who had ice-hiked before and the more confident were asked to move to the other side of the room. Marc turned to look at me and I remained rooted to the spot ...
After negotiating the rocks and chain-ladders (they didn't show the icy water dripping from above in the photos), an hour later we arrived at the face of the glacier and were shown how to firmly fix our spikes onto our boots and how to tuck in the long ends of the straps so they wouldn't get tangled in the spikes. We also got our first instruction on how to walk on ice. Going uphill - drive the toes in first and going downhill - dig the heels in first. Walk with legs slightly apart to stop the spikes catching. One foot to any one step cut into the ice, again to stop spike snagging but most of all "trust your spikes and walk normally and confidently" - yeah right.
The group was split again into two groups of twelve, and after a short climb up loose rock, we were on the ice - my feet being driven in so hard that my toes were in danger of being forced out through the front of my socks! The first part of the climb was up ice-steps that had been pre-cut earlier that morning. Guides are on the glacier from dawn every day cutting new steps as those of the day before will have melted away overnight. They also look for new ice caves and other features that have appeared since the previous day. Half an hour later and I was still on my feet when we reached the Point of No Return. This is the last point that any individual can turn back, no strings attached. Any further and you would need to pay to get yourself airlifted off the ice in a helicopter. Josh, our leader, radioed back to base to say that he'd reached No Return and all was well, everyone appearing to be sufficiently confident to carry on. Can't appearances be deceptive!
The glacier has a surface temperature of 3 degrees which means that it is wet to the touch and the mittens soon got soggy and were wrung out and put away but they weren't really needed as the adrenaline coursing through my veins coupled with a thumping heart meant that my hands and feet were like toast.
The terrain soon changed and the wind picked up and got a lot colder as we started to traverse 'The Waves'. We climbed up the sides of big 'waves' in the ice with the help of ropes fixed into the glacier with ice-screws and sometimes up small steps that Josh would cut out as we went along if the slope was too steep to just walk up. Sometimes these shallow ledges would be far apart and getting a foot fixed securely on the next step and hauling yourself up without a handgrip, keeping your body close to the wall was quite a challenge. Coming down steep slopes, we learned a technique called the Franz Shuffle - side on to the drop, the top leg passing behind the other down onto the next step to avoid snagging the spikes. We walked down into crevasses 'crab style', toe of each foot driven into opposite walls then we'd crunch our way along the bottom which would be packed with loose-ice then climb out using the same elegant style.
We stopped at noon for a picnic - all sat on our bum-bags, heels dug in to stop us sliding away, coats zipped up to the hilt and hats pulled down against the biting wind, but wow, what a view. Massive pinnacles of white and blue ice glistening in the sun above us, an emerald rainforest below and waterfalls tumbling down the sides of the valley on either side.
On we went - more waves and crevasses, some of which led to breathtaking ice-caves of very dense sparkling blue ice that seemed to be illuminated from within. This was the stuff of promo posters. Whilst these caves were some of the most amazing and beautiful places that I've ever been in, I wasn't too keen to hang around too long in some of the more confined ones. There was a protocol that on the way through the cave, you would give your camera to the person in front of you, who would turn around (not as easy as it sounds) and take your picture. I think I managed not to cut off any heads in my haste to get out the other end!
Such was my determination not to fall and return intact that every single step I took throughout the day was calculated and kicked into the ice, so four and a half hours of intense concentration later, I was quite happy to hear Josh say that we'd reached our high point and would be starting our descent. He had led us about 2km up the glacier in all, picking his route as he went, having to change course or backtrack if he thought there was too much risk involved. We crossed towards the side of the glacier where the ice-forms were not so severe but there were still plenty of waves and walls to be negotiated. Finally we reached the Point of No Return and I was so glad to see the first steps we'd climbed early that morning that I could have done a sprint finish. Off came the spikes for the return trek through the bush and those rocks which didn't seem so bad this time round. It wasn't until I slumped into my seat on the bus that I realised that I was totally spent and just wanted to stand under a hot shower for a week.
And so we'd made it, without a slip or a slide, and for me a huge buzz and sense of achievement. I don't think I'll be doing it again in a hurry, but now I can join in one conversation at least and know what I'm talking about ...
p.s. two days later and my legs were so stiff that I couldn't complete the simple action of sitting down in a chair. I'd inch down so far, stop, then sort of fall backwards into the seat, half laughing, half groaning. An acute case of Franz Thigh.
Monday, 24 March 2008
Tuesday, 18 March 2008
TWO RETURN TO AOTEAROA
We have arrived in The Land of the Long White Cloud as summer is showing the first signs of autumn. The days are still beautifully warm with evenings starting to feel a little cool. It's a lovely time to be here and ideal for scrumping apples, oranges and peaches from Uncle Alun's bountiful garden.
We spent our first week here in Christchurch with Alun, just enjoying the relaxed pace of life and being welcomed into the homes of some of his many friends where we have enjoyed many great evenings and have been spoilt rotten with delicious home cooking. Joy's apple pie will be talked about for years to come and as will the sheer size of the lobster and the taste of the garlic prawns at Trudy and Henry's, washed down with a crisp Riesling from Mandy and Hayden's winery. Alun helps out with groundwork at the winery but he assured us that his feet hadn't been involved in the pressing process.
One of my lasting memories from our last visit here was the day trip that Alun and Ceri took us on to the charming little town of Akaroa, the country's first French settlement on the Banks Peninsula, east of Christchurch. This little gem boasts the best fish and chips in the world. The route goes over a mountain range of steep gradients and twisting bends and on that day five years ago, there was a cycle road race taking place. We had taken a picnic to eat en-route and the image I have of that day is of Auntie Ceri stood behind the open boot of the car in a layby, cutting slices of bread from a loaf clutched to her chest as the King of the Mountains, followed by dozens of other competitors came over the top of the hill! We returned this time round to make sure that the fish and chips were still up to scratch, and they were. I can't say the same about the weather though as it tipped down all the time we were there, but isn't there something lovely and cosy about eating chips in a car behind steamed-up windows!
The QEII Centre was home to the 1976 Commonwealth Games and is a stone's throw from Alun's home. As swimming and diving are my favourite championship spectator sports, imagine my excitement at the opportunity of swimming in a 50m pool for the first time! My Olympic attempt started with an 'in the water' start, a la backstroke (too much of a wimp to dive in off the starting block) followed by a thrash up the pool and a lunge for the timing pad at the end, even though we had been requested not to touch them is possible. If that wasn't enough, the next day the main pool was closed for (real) competition and we got to swim in the dark blue waters of the diving pool! As I plodded up and down under the boards, the 1 and 3m springboards and the 3, 5 and 10m platforms (see, I know them all), I wished I had the guts to have a go then I remembered the champion diver who only needed to plop into the water to win the Olympics a few years ago, but walloped his head on the way down which saw off his medal hopes along with half his scalp, and thought that it was safer for me to stay in the water. I also had a go at aqua jogging after wondering what all those vertical people, bobbing up and down in the water with flailing arms were up to, so polystyrene belt clasped around my waist I joined them for a half hour session and next morning was greeted by newly discovered muscles.
My quest to find Dan Carter was over in the first couple of days as the Cruisaders were playing the Brumbies in the first game of the new rugby season in Christchurch - what luck! Even better luck, as we stood at the gate, trying to decide how much to spend on a ticket, we were approached by a very nice man who offered us two corporate tickets for no charge. I looked at Marc and Marc looked at me, wondering if we'd end up in jail for our part in a racket, then took them anyway and had absolutely great seats where Marc enjoyed a skillful game where the Cruisaders thrashed the Brumbies and I enjoyed watching the talent and moves of the particularly fit No 10. Our big Welsh Dragon flag got a good airing that night.
We had a slide-show evening where Alun showed us some photos he had taken some 50 years ago. Meticulously indexed and stored, these are fascinating slides of when Alun, or RAF Leading Air Commodore Breese to give him his correct title, had spent 3 months in the Antarctic as part of the team setting up Scott's Base Camp, providing fuel and supplies for the expeditions to the pole, working alongside the the likes of Edmund Hillary and Vivien Fuchs. Last year, Alun was honoured and awarded a medal for his part in the project 50 years ago. My favourite photo has to be the one of the piano on the ice, still in it's crate with the front taken off, with men wrapped from the cold gathered around for a singsong on Christmas Day.
Eifion, Alun's son, whose peaceful Christmas we had invaded at Melbourne was due to visit his dad in a couple of weeks so we took off on The Great Western Loop, co-inciding our return to Christchurch to spend more time with him. Our last visit here didn't afford us the time to see much of the West coast so we planned a journey that would take us across the Canterbury Plains and over the Southern Alps on the Tranz Alpine train to Greymouth, then heading South to Hokitika and Franz Josef before turning North for Punakaiki and literally to the end of the road at Karamea, returning to Christchurch via Westport and the Lewis Pass over the northern end of the Alps.
And so, early on a Monday morning, Alun waved us off on the platform on the Tranz Alpine train. In winter this is a trip through snow-capped mountains and in Spring is carpeted with Alpine flowers, but it was still beautiful on this misty autumn morning, the sun breaking through on the odd distant peak. Marc travelled much of the journey in the open observation car getting a cold nose whilst I sat in the nice warm carriage as the train went over a series of viaducts and through a number of tunnels known as the Staircase before we emerged from the side of a mountain onto the West coast at Greymouth and our overnight stop. This was our first glimpse of the seas on this side of the island and they are huge - massive waves pounding the beaches for miles and miles. The swimming advice for the length of the coastline is "Don't even think about it".
Next morning and we were off to Hokitika where the streets are literally paved with jade. Maoris called this are Te Wahi Pounama - the Place of Jade as it is very rich pickings here - big pieces can be found on the beach even, if you knew what you were looking for. The streets are dotted with jade workshops and retail outlets and some of the concrete street pavers have been replaced with those of jade. Hokitika has a beach that looks like the scene of a shipwreck - big rolling waves and huge pieces of driftwood strewn everywhere. We kept on finding ourselves drawn back to the beach time and time again and ended up spending most of our time walking along the sand or up the river estuary. It was here that we came across a rare white heron. Whataroa is just down the road and is NZ's only nesting site for these lovely birds. Imagine our excitement when we saw one, perched on a branch above the river just before our very eyes. As with all such close encounters, by the time the camera had been fished out of the bag, turned on and pointed, it had flown off...
Next on the list was Franz Josef village and the biggest mental and physical challenge of my life.
We spent our first week here in Christchurch with Alun, just enjoying the relaxed pace of life and being welcomed into the homes of some of his many friends where we have enjoyed many great evenings and have been spoilt rotten with delicious home cooking. Joy's apple pie will be talked about for years to come and as will the sheer size of the lobster and the taste of the garlic prawns at Trudy and Henry's, washed down with a crisp Riesling from Mandy and Hayden's winery. Alun helps out with groundwork at the winery but he assured us that his feet hadn't been involved in the pressing process.
One of my lasting memories from our last visit here was the day trip that Alun and Ceri took us on to the charming little town of Akaroa, the country's first French settlement on the Banks Peninsula, east of Christchurch. This little gem boasts the best fish and chips in the world. The route goes over a mountain range of steep gradients and twisting bends and on that day five years ago, there was a cycle road race taking place. We had taken a picnic to eat en-route and the image I have of that day is of Auntie Ceri stood behind the open boot of the car in a layby, cutting slices of bread from a loaf clutched to her chest as the King of the Mountains, followed by dozens of other competitors came over the top of the hill! We returned this time round to make sure that the fish and chips were still up to scratch, and they were. I can't say the same about the weather though as it tipped down all the time we were there, but isn't there something lovely and cosy about eating chips in a car behind steamed-up windows!
The QEII Centre was home to the 1976 Commonwealth Games and is a stone's throw from Alun's home. As swimming and diving are my favourite championship spectator sports, imagine my excitement at the opportunity of swimming in a 50m pool for the first time! My Olympic attempt started with an 'in the water' start, a la backstroke (too much of a wimp to dive in off the starting block) followed by a thrash up the pool and a lunge for the timing pad at the end, even though we had been requested not to touch them is possible. If that wasn't enough, the next day the main pool was closed for (real) competition and we got to swim in the dark blue waters of the diving pool! As I plodded up and down under the boards, the 1 and 3m springboards and the 3, 5 and 10m platforms (see, I know them all), I wished I had the guts to have a go then I remembered the champion diver who only needed to plop into the water to win the Olympics a few years ago, but walloped his head on the way down which saw off his medal hopes along with half his scalp, and thought that it was safer for me to stay in the water. I also had a go at aqua jogging after wondering what all those vertical people, bobbing up and down in the water with flailing arms were up to, so polystyrene belt clasped around my waist I joined them for a half hour session and next morning was greeted by newly discovered muscles.
My quest to find Dan Carter was over in the first couple of days as the Cruisaders were playing the Brumbies in the first game of the new rugby season in Christchurch - what luck! Even better luck, as we stood at the gate, trying to decide how much to spend on a ticket, we were approached by a very nice man who offered us two corporate tickets for no charge. I looked at Marc and Marc looked at me, wondering if we'd end up in jail for our part in a racket, then took them anyway and had absolutely great seats where Marc enjoyed a skillful game where the Cruisaders thrashed the Brumbies and I enjoyed watching the talent and moves of the particularly fit No 10. Our big Welsh Dragon flag got a good airing that night.
We had a slide-show evening where Alun showed us some photos he had taken some 50 years ago. Meticulously indexed and stored, these are fascinating slides of when Alun, or RAF Leading Air Commodore Breese to give him his correct title, had spent 3 months in the Antarctic as part of the team setting up Scott's Base Camp, providing fuel and supplies for the expeditions to the pole, working alongside the the likes of Edmund Hillary and Vivien Fuchs. Last year, Alun was honoured and awarded a medal for his part in the project 50 years ago. My favourite photo has to be the one of the piano on the ice, still in it's crate with the front taken off, with men wrapped from the cold gathered around for a singsong on Christmas Day.
Eifion, Alun's son, whose peaceful Christmas we had invaded at Melbourne was due to visit his dad in a couple of weeks so we took off on The Great Western Loop, co-inciding our return to Christchurch to spend more time with him. Our last visit here didn't afford us the time to see much of the West coast so we planned a journey that would take us across the Canterbury Plains and over the Southern Alps on the Tranz Alpine train to Greymouth, then heading South to Hokitika and Franz Josef before turning North for Punakaiki and literally to the end of the road at Karamea, returning to Christchurch via Westport and the Lewis Pass over the northern end of the Alps.
And so, early on a Monday morning, Alun waved us off on the platform on the Tranz Alpine train. In winter this is a trip through snow-capped mountains and in Spring is carpeted with Alpine flowers, but it was still beautiful on this misty autumn morning, the sun breaking through on the odd distant peak. Marc travelled much of the journey in the open observation car getting a cold nose whilst I sat in the nice warm carriage as the train went over a series of viaducts and through a number of tunnels known as the Staircase before we emerged from the side of a mountain onto the West coast at Greymouth and our overnight stop. This was our first glimpse of the seas on this side of the island and they are huge - massive waves pounding the beaches for miles and miles. The swimming advice for the length of the coastline is "Don't even think about it".
Next morning and we were off to Hokitika where the streets are literally paved with jade. Maoris called this are Te Wahi Pounama - the Place of Jade as it is very rich pickings here - big pieces can be found on the beach even, if you knew what you were looking for. The streets are dotted with jade workshops and retail outlets and some of the concrete street pavers have been replaced with those of jade. Hokitika has a beach that looks like the scene of a shipwreck - big rolling waves and huge pieces of driftwood strewn everywhere. We kept on finding ourselves drawn back to the beach time and time again and ended up spending most of our time walking along the sand or up the river estuary. It was here that we came across a rare white heron. Whataroa is just down the road and is NZ's only nesting site for these lovely birds. Imagine our excitement when we saw one, perched on a branch above the river just before our very eyes. As with all such close encounters, by the time the camera had been fished out of the bag, turned on and pointed, it had flown off...
Next on the list was Franz Josef village and the biggest mental and physical challenge of my life.
Saturday, 15 March 2008
Ardderchog Cymru!
Pencampwyr ac yn bwysicach byth ennillwyr y Gamp Lawn. Ffan-blingking-tastig! Hwre, hwre, hwre! Da iawn fechgyn! Da iawn Cymru! Gadewch i'r dathliadau gychwyn! Doedd dim modd gweld y gem na hyd yn oed gwrando ar y gem (rydym ym mhentref Mynydd Cook) ond roedd bosib ddarllen y diweddara ar lein ar wefan y BBC ... agony! Da iawn eto bois - dwi off i rhoi'r newyddion da i Nia. Dwi'n teimlo y gallaf redeg lan Mynydd Cook a nol lawr cyn brecwast ac mae pawb yn yr hostel yn gwybod fod Cymru wedi ennill erbyn hyn.
Hwre, hwre, hwre ...
Hwre, hwre, hwre ...
Saturday, 8 March 2008
THE BLUE MOUNTAINS & SYDNEY, ONE MORE TIME
Our last week in Australia was spent in and around Sydney, tramping in the spectacular Blue Mountains and doing the city sights one more time. This time round, our camera was doing what it says on the tin and we just couldn’t leave Australia without photos of two of the world’s most recognised landmarks - no one would have believed that we’d been there!
Fresh from the flight from Alice Springs, we boarded a double-decker train in at Sydney Central for the two hour journey into the Blue Mountains. The window of the seat that I wanted was obscured by graffiti so I utilised my trusty backpackers toolkit containing wet-wipes and toilet tissue to clean the window much to the tipsy amusement of a man who tumbled into the seat in front of me. How unfortunate it was then, when Transport Police boarded the train an hour later, he had ‘lost’ his $20 ticket and was slapped with an immediate fine of $200! We travelled through woods and small towns, and through our crystal clear window, caught tantalising glimpses of spectacular scenery through breaks in the trees. It was evening by the time we arrived at Katoomba so we had to wait until morning to don our boots and go in search of the dramatic landscape we’d seen hints of, and we didn’t have to wait long. Just a couple of streets down from the hostel we disappeared into the bush on the Prince Henry Cliff Walk and were almost immediately bowled-over by the view from a lookout point on an over-hanging rock high above a deep wooded canyon. I don’t think I’ve ever looked down on anything from such a height before – the trees looked so small it was impossible to pick out individual specimens from the canopy far below. After ‘oohing’ and ‘wowing’ for a while we got back on the track through the eucalypt forest, stopping to read information plaques on trees like the Sydney Peppermint, Red Bloodwood, Stringy Bark, Turpentine and the splendidly named Scribbly Gum. Ferns, mosses and other green things on rocks covered most of the shady and damp forest floor. The lookout points just got better and better as we went along, and at Echo Point we were able to look back at the spectacular Three Sisters. Meehni, Wimlah and Gunnedoo make up the sandstone three rock formation that rises steeply from the woods of the valley floor nearly one kilometre below. It was really difficult to stop taking photos as we kept on thinking that the next shot could be ‘The One’, but by now we were hungry and as we had no picnic, we walked another couple of kilometres, then left the track and headed back for town, planning the next day’s tramping.
Prince Henry’s Cliff Walk had taken us along the edge of the plateau but the next day we descended into the canyon and into the Jamison Forest, following tracks directly under the Cliff Walk on the valley floor. The first part of the descent involved taking the Skyway cable-car horizontally across part of the canyon in a car that had a glass floor and as it slid towards the edge and out over the abyss, you could hear little sharp intakes of breath and little squeals from the passengers. I remember feeling a little reassured when I heard the controller in the car tell someone that the system had been imported from Switzerland about five years ago – they make reliable watches so …. The second part of the descent was in another cable-car, but this time the drop was so steep that it was almost vertical! The views were stunning as we slid down past cascading waterfalls and trees clinging to the sheer walls of the canyon and it was all over too soon.
We had chosen to walk two tracks that day, firstly the Federal Pass, that wanders off into the valley a little and is the lesser tramped of the tracks as it is rougher going and a longer distance. It eventually links up with the Dardanelles Pass which is easier underfoot and snakes along the bottom of the cliff face, back to the cable-car station. We started with a short section along a board-walk in the lush rainforest, surrounded by fern, Lilly Pilly and Sassafras trees and many others that have not been blessed with unforgettable names, where there was a notice that advised – 1. The boardwalk can be very slippery when wet, please take extreme care and do not run. 2. If you hear a loud crack and rushing noise, please ignore 1 above. Love it!
Out we went onto the track proper, over and under fallen trees, across creeks, the track going up and down through the ferny undergrowth, the whoops, whistles and warbles of birds all around us. Then we stopped … Obscured by the undergrowth, about 20 metres away we could see something that looked like a quivering pair of very long horns with curls at the end. We stared and strained our eyes and took photos of course, then saw that there were long, fine feathers between the ‘horns’ and realised that what we were watching was a lyrebird strutting his stuff, giving a magnificent display of his tail feathers to some passing bird. I’d never seen a photo of a lyrebird but I remember drawing one about thirty years ago in a geography class, with a duck-billed platypus next to it and thinking that I’d probably never get to see one – wrong! It really made our day. We stopped for our picnic at a clearing in the forest that is surrounded by huge boulders and known as the Dining Hall, which was rather fitting for our luxurious fare (remember that we’ve had picnic training from West Australians!).
We made our way back along the Dardanelles Pass which was far easier going and we saw far more people in the first five minutes than we’d seen all morning on the first track. We came to a sign that said Echo Point and an arrow pointed upwards to the Three Sisters, not that we could see anything through the trees, so we just had to take their word for it. A very animated and excited chap (a Pom) had told us earlier on that he’d seen a freshwater lobster in the pool at the bottom of a waterfall so Marc ventured down to the waters edge to have a look and I spotted it from the path above! To me it looked pretty insipid, but to Marc who saw it in sunlight, it was a rainbow of blue, green and red and well worth sliding down the bank to see. We arrived back at the cable-car station via the remnants of an old coal mine with tools, bits of machinery and track still lying around. The coal was transported up to the cliff top via the steepest funicular railway in the world, and the rail was now an alternative method of transport for trampers returning up to the top. As the open car rises so steeply, if passengers were to start the journey sitting in the normal upright position, chances are that they would fall forwards and out and a lot of paperwork would ensue, so you clamber into your seat into a half lying-down position. The thing clatters into action, then you shoot up the side of the cliff face and what no-one tells you at the bottom is that it goes through a long, dark shaft that’s dripping with cold water which all comes as a bit of a surprise and a lot of gasping. The wide-eyed look on the faces of waiting passengers at the top was a picture! We took the glass-bottomed cable-car back to the town side of the canyon and went back to the hostel where we enjoyed that magical moment when you take off your boots, sit back and say ‘ahhh’…
Our last couple of days were spent in Sydney where we’d started our Aussie adventure two months earlier, but where the camera had packed up just in sight of Harbour Bridge on the first day. Back in photo mode, we walked down to Circular Quay, old hands by now, not needing the city map and took photos of the bridge and Opera House (still say that it’s a bit shabby) in bright sunshine. Not content with having separate photos of the two icons, we walked back across Circular Quay and through the Botanic Gardens to a spot called Mrs Macquarie’s Chair, this being the only spot where it is possible to get both structures in the viewfinder at the same time. Mrs Macquarie’s Chair is a stone seat which was carved by convicts into the rocks of a small headland jutting out into the harbour many years ago at the request of one-time Governor Macquarie’s wife, from nearby Government House. She probably enjoyed many a gin and tonic at this spot whilst enjoying splendid views of the harbour on an evening, but we had one eye on the views and the other on some of the blackest clouds I’ve ever seen and the approaching storm. Would we make it back into the city before the deluge? No. We sheltered under an overhanging rock for about an hour then decided to make a run for it and got absolutely drenched. By the time we squelched into the city centre, the sun had come out again and we were steaming like a couple of cows.
And so our two months in the land of the kangaroo and didgeridoo came to and end and we were on our way back to New Zealand, where the seed of this round the world adventure had been sown five years ago when we had spent a month in the Land of the Long White Cloud. We flew into Christchurch where Marc’s Great Uncle Alun was waiting for us at the airport. We drove into the familiar setting and house at 120 Fleete Street, which was a bit of a surprise, as the postcard we’d sent two weeks previously, with full details of our arrival had been sent to number 36!
Fresh from the flight from Alice Springs, we boarded a double-decker train in at Sydney Central for the two hour journey into the Blue Mountains. The window of the seat that I wanted was obscured by graffiti so I utilised my trusty backpackers toolkit containing wet-wipes and toilet tissue to clean the window much to the tipsy amusement of a man who tumbled into the seat in front of me. How unfortunate it was then, when Transport Police boarded the train an hour later, he had ‘lost’ his $20 ticket and was slapped with an immediate fine of $200! We travelled through woods and small towns, and through our crystal clear window, caught tantalising glimpses of spectacular scenery through breaks in the trees. It was evening by the time we arrived at Katoomba so we had to wait until morning to don our boots and go in search of the dramatic landscape we’d seen hints of, and we didn’t have to wait long. Just a couple of streets down from the hostel we disappeared into the bush on the Prince Henry Cliff Walk and were almost immediately bowled-over by the view from a lookout point on an over-hanging rock high above a deep wooded canyon. I don’t think I’ve ever looked down on anything from such a height before – the trees looked so small it was impossible to pick out individual specimens from the canopy far below. After ‘oohing’ and ‘wowing’ for a while we got back on the track through the eucalypt forest, stopping to read information plaques on trees like the Sydney Peppermint, Red Bloodwood, Stringy Bark, Turpentine and the splendidly named Scribbly Gum. Ferns, mosses and other green things on rocks covered most of the shady and damp forest floor. The lookout points just got better and better as we went along, and at Echo Point we were able to look back at the spectacular Three Sisters. Meehni, Wimlah and Gunnedoo make up the sandstone three rock formation that rises steeply from the woods of the valley floor nearly one kilometre below. It was really difficult to stop taking photos as we kept on thinking that the next shot could be ‘The One’, but by now we were hungry and as we had no picnic, we walked another couple of kilometres, then left the track and headed back for town, planning the next day’s tramping.
Prince Henry’s Cliff Walk had taken us along the edge of the plateau but the next day we descended into the canyon and into the Jamison Forest, following tracks directly under the Cliff Walk on the valley floor. The first part of the descent involved taking the Skyway cable-car horizontally across part of the canyon in a car that had a glass floor and as it slid towards the edge and out over the abyss, you could hear little sharp intakes of breath and little squeals from the passengers. I remember feeling a little reassured when I heard the controller in the car tell someone that the system had been imported from Switzerland about five years ago – they make reliable watches so …. The second part of the descent was in another cable-car, but this time the drop was so steep that it was almost vertical! The views were stunning as we slid down past cascading waterfalls and trees clinging to the sheer walls of the canyon and it was all over too soon.
We had chosen to walk two tracks that day, firstly the Federal Pass, that wanders off into the valley a little and is the lesser tramped of the tracks as it is rougher going and a longer distance. It eventually links up with the Dardanelles Pass which is easier underfoot and snakes along the bottom of the cliff face, back to the cable-car station. We started with a short section along a board-walk in the lush rainforest, surrounded by fern, Lilly Pilly and Sassafras trees and many others that have not been blessed with unforgettable names, where there was a notice that advised – 1. The boardwalk can be very slippery when wet, please take extreme care and do not run. 2. If you hear a loud crack and rushing noise, please ignore 1 above. Love it!
Out we went onto the track proper, over and under fallen trees, across creeks, the track going up and down through the ferny undergrowth, the whoops, whistles and warbles of birds all around us. Then we stopped … Obscured by the undergrowth, about 20 metres away we could see something that looked like a quivering pair of very long horns with curls at the end. We stared and strained our eyes and took photos of course, then saw that there were long, fine feathers between the ‘horns’ and realised that what we were watching was a lyrebird strutting his stuff, giving a magnificent display of his tail feathers to some passing bird. I’d never seen a photo of a lyrebird but I remember drawing one about thirty years ago in a geography class, with a duck-billed platypus next to it and thinking that I’d probably never get to see one – wrong! It really made our day. We stopped for our picnic at a clearing in the forest that is surrounded by huge boulders and known as the Dining Hall, which was rather fitting for our luxurious fare (remember that we’ve had picnic training from West Australians!).
We made our way back along the Dardanelles Pass which was far easier going and we saw far more people in the first five minutes than we’d seen all morning on the first track. We came to a sign that said Echo Point and an arrow pointed upwards to the Three Sisters, not that we could see anything through the trees, so we just had to take their word for it. A very animated and excited chap (a Pom) had told us earlier on that he’d seen a freshwater lobster in the pool at the bottom of a waterfall so Marc ventured down to the waters edge to have a look and I spotted it from the path above! To me it looked pretty insipid, but to Marc who saw it in sunlight, it was a rainbow of blue, green and red and well worth sliding down the bank to see. We arrived back at the cable-car station via the remnants of an old coal mine with tools, bits of machinery and track still lying around. The coal was transported up to the cliff top via the steepest funicular railway in the world, and the rail was now an alternative method of transport for trampers returning up to the top. As the open car rises so steeply, if passengers were to start the journey sitting in the normal upright position, chances are that they would fall forwards and out and a lot of paperwork would ensue, so you clamber into your seat into a half lying-down position. The thing clatters into action, then you shoot up the side of the cliff face and what no-one tells you at the bottom is that it goes through a long, dark shaft that’s dripping with cold water which all comes as a bit of a surprise and a lot of gasping. The wide-eyed look on the faces of waiting passengers at the top was a picture! We took the glass-bottomed cable-car back to the town side of the canyon and went back to the hostel where we enjoyed that magical moment when you take off your boots, sit back and say ‘ahhh’…
Our last couple of days were spent in Sydney where we’d started our Aussie adventure two months earlier, but where the camera had packed up just in sight of Harbour Bridge on the first day. Back in photo mode, we walked down to Circular Quay, old hands by now, not needing the city map and took photos of the bridge and Opera House (still say that it’s a bit shabby) in bright sunshine. Not content with having separate photos of the two icons, we walked back across Circular Quay and through the Botanic Gardens to a spot called Mrs Macquarie’s Chair, this being the only spot where it is possible to get both structures in the viewfinder at the same time. Mrs Macquarie’s Chair is a stone seat which was carved by convicts into the rocks of a small headland jutting out into the harbour many years ago at the request of one-time Governor Macquarie’s wife, from nearby Government House. She probably enjoyed many a gin and tonic at this spot whilst enjoying splendid views of the harbour on an evening, but we had one eye on the views and the other on some of the blackest clouds I’ve ever seen and the approaching storm. Would we make it back into the city before the deluge? No. We sheltered under an overhanging rock for about an hour then decided to make a run for it and got absolutely drenched. By the time we squelched into the city centre, the sun had come out again and we were steaming like a couple of cows.
And so our two months in the land of the kangaroo and didgeridoo came to and end and we were on our way back to New Zealand, where the seed of this round the world adventure had been sown five years ago when we had spent a month in the Land of the Long White Cloud. We flew into Christchurch where Marc’s Great Uncle Alun was waiting for us at the airport. We drove into the familiar setting and house at 120 Fleete Street, which was a bit of a surprise, as the postcard we’d sent two weeks previously, with full details of our arrival had been sent to number 36!
C'MON CYMRU! Pob Lwc i'r Bechgyn
Dynuniadau gorau o Seland Newydd i'r bechgyn yn eu cais am y Goron Driphlyg. Chwalwch y Gwyddelod a dewch adre' mewn gogoniant. Gwnewch eich gorau a rhowch gêm dda i ni - byddaf yn gwrando ar y radio dros y we.
C'MON CYMRU!
C'MON CYMRU!
Friday, 7 March 2008
Beth Arall Ddigwyddodd ym Mherth
Wrth edrych nôl ar ein hamser ym Mherth dwi methu a chredu’r holl bethau cawsom eu gwneud a’u gweld - ond fe fuom yno am dros tair wythnos i gyd ac yn gloi dyma beth arall gwnaethom:
Ymweld ag Amgueddfa a Galeri Gorllwein Awstralia.
Ymweld â Bathdy Perth a chael gwylio aur yn cael ei doddi ac yna ei ail gastio i mewn i far. Fe ddysgom hefyd am hanes cloddio am aur yn y dalaith ac ar sut y’i darganfuwyd.
Euthom i Acwariwm Gorllewin Awstralia a chael gweld rhagor o ryfeddodau’r mor sy’n bodoli ogwmpas arfordir y dalaith.
Ymweld a thref Freemantle a’i marchnad a’i bragdy lleol Little Creatures.
Yn ystod ein cyfnod yma roedd Pencampwriaeth Tenis Agored Awstralia yn cael ei gynnal ac mi’r oedd yn cael ei ddarlledi ar y teledu dydd a nos (yn debyg i Wimbledon gartref) ac os nad oedd hynny’n ddigon roedd y criced i’w gael gyda’r gemau prawf rhwng Awstralia ac India ble roedd yna ddigon ddadlau yn mynd yn ei flaen rhwng y ddau dîm i’n diddori. Ar ben hyn i gyd roedd hi’n Ddiwrnod Awstralia ar Ionawr 26ain a felly roedd yna’r holl dân gwyllt yn goleuo’r awyr gyda’r hwyr ac roedd yn esgus (er nad oedd angen esgus arnom) i gael barbeciw arall.
Hoffwn estyn diolch mawr iawn, iawn i Gwen am bopeth ac am wneud ein ymweliad a Gorllewin Awstralia mor foddhaol.
Ymweld ag Amgueddfa a Galeri Gorllwein Awstralia.
Ymweld â Bathdy Perth a chael gwylio aur yn cael ei doddi ac yna ei ail gastio i mewn i far. Fe ddysgom hefyd am hanes cloddio am aur yn y dalaith ac ar sut y’i darganfuwyd.
Euthom i Acwariwm Gorllewin Awstralia a chael gweld rhagor o ryfeddodau’r mor sy’n bodoli ogwmpas arfordir y dalaith.
Ymweld a thref Freemantle a’i marchnad a’i bragdy lleol Little Creatures.
Yn ystod ein cyfnod yma roedd Pencampwriaeth Tenis Agored Awstralia yn cael ei gynnal ac mi’r oedd yn cael ei ddarlledi ar y teledu dydd a nos (yn debyg i Wimbledon gartref) ac os nad oedd hynny’n ddigon roedd y criced i’w gael gyda’r gemau prawf rhwng Awstralia ac India ble roedd yna ddigon ddadlau yn mynd yn ei flaen rhwng y ddau dîm i’n diddori. Ar ben hyn i gyd roedd hi’n Ddiwrnod Awstralia ar Ionawr 26ain a felly roedd yna’r holl dân gwyllt yn goleuo’r awyr gyda’r hwyr ac roedd yn esgus (er nad oedd angen esgus arnom) i gael barbeciw arall.
Hoffwn estyn diolch mawr iawn, iawn i Gwen am bopeth ac am wneud ein ymweliad a Gorllewin Awstralia mor foddhaol.
Taith Ogwmpas De Orllewin, Gorllewin Awstralia
Cyn i ni gyrraedd Perth roedd Gwen wedi bod yn frysur iawn yn gwneud trefniadau ar gyfer taith ogwmpas De Orllewin, Gorllewin Awstralia. Cawsom drip o chwech diwrnod, pump noswaith yn ymweld â, ac aros gyda teulu a ffrindiau Gwen.
Arosom y noswaith gyntaf gyda Peter a Daphne ar eu ffarm Bundaleer yng Nghatanning. Ffarm fawr cnydau a defaid, 13,000 erw ydyw a chawsom y ‘grand tour’ gan Daphne yn ei ute (‘utility vehicle’) a chael hel llwynog daethom ar ei draws drwy ffrwcs un o’u caeau anferth cyn i’r llwynog cael y gorau a’n colli. Cawsom farbeciw gyda’r hwyr a chael clywed hanes a gweld lluniau o’u teithiau ar ddraws Awstralia. Maent yn teithio gyda dau gwpwl arall ac yn aml yn trafaelu hyd at 15,000km dros cyfnod o fis i chwech wythnos – y rhan fwyaf ohono yn gyrru drwy ganol anialwch Awstralia.
Arhosom yr ail a’r drydedd noswaith gyda Kevin, brawd Gwen, ym Mount Barker. Mae Kevin yn byw yn y wlad, drws nesaf i’r ffarm y cawsant eu dwyn lan arni a felly cawsom ymweld a’u cartref cyntaf hefyd. Fe’r aeth Kevin a ni am drip i Albany (y brif dref agosaf i Mount Barker) a chawsom weld pa mor wahanol yw’r wlad reit lawr yn ne Gorllwein Awstralia i gymharu a gweddill y dalaith. Maent yn cael tipyn fwy o law yma a felly yn lle y tirwedd melyn sych roeddem yn arfer ei gweld mi’r oedd hi’n dipyn yn wyrddach, llawer debycach i gartref. Ymwelsom a nifer o lefydd gan gynnwys Mount Clarence ble mae’r ANZAC Memorial yn edrych i lawr dros Albany a’i chyffiniau; Emu Point, The Gap a’r Natural Bridge tirwedd arbennig ar hyd yr afordir; a hefyd Whaleworld. Whaleworld oedd yr orsaf olaf ar waith yn Awstralia ar gyfer prosesu morfilod wedi’u hela tan iddo gau yn 1978 ac erbyn hyn mae wedi ei droi i fewn i amgueddfa ar hanes yr orsaf ac ar hela morfilod. Roedd yn le digon arswydus ar yr un llaw ond yn ddiddorol dros ben ar y llaw arall ond mi’r wyf yn falch iawn nad yw’r orsaf yn cael ei ddefnyddio bellach am ei bwrpas gwreiddiol a nad yw Awstralia yn hela morfiloed bellach. Wrth drafaelu ogwmpas Albany daethom ar draws nifer fawr o belicans, fwy o gangarws (dydym ddim yn blino gweld y creaduriaid hyfryd yma) a hefyd un skink bach du – math o fadfall (lizard) yw ond fod ei groen yn ymweld yn feddal. Mae rhaid dweud fod Kevin, neu Kev fel roeddem yn ei alw, yn foi a hanner, bachan ffein iawn a dros y dwy noswaith buom yn aros gyda’g ef darganfuom ei fod yn gwc a hanner hefyd. Cawsom wledd o brydiau gyda’r hwye gan gynnwys cig oen wedi ei rhostio gyda’r ‘full works’ heb anghofio frecwast wedi ei goginio bob bore (wyt ti’n cymryd sylw Nia?).
Fe arhosom ar ein dwy noswaith olaf ym Musseldon gyda Dave a Cissy, a Matey a Jess, y ddau gi. Mae cartref Dave a Cissy yn edrych allan dros warchodfa natur ac mi’r oedd ganddynt olygfa bendigedig o’u gardd cefn gyda’r holl amrywiaeth o adar i’w gweld ac ar rhai adegau o’r flwyddyn byddent yn gweld cangarws hefyd. Tra ym Musseldon gwnaethom ymweld a nifer o lefydd cyfagos fel tref Margaret River, canolfan gwin byd enwog ond gwell byth mae Margaret River Chocolate Company yno hefyd – gyda samplau am ddim!!! Rhaid oedd i Nia a Gwen fy llusgo allan o ‘na. Ymwelsom â Bootleg Brewery a rhaid oedd cael blasu pob un o’i diodydd cyn penderfynnu pa un oedd orau. Buom hefyd yn Canal Rocks a phentrefi bychain Yallingup a Dunsborough am olygfeydd arfordirol arbennig a mynd i nofio ym Munker Bay. Nôl ym Musseldon cerddom ar hyd y pier – yr ail pier mwyaf yn y byd ryw 1.7km o hyd ac ym mhen pella’r pier roedd yr Underwater Observatory ble roedd modd gweld y bywyd môr cyfoethog roedd yn bodoli o dan y pier ei hunan gan gynnwys yr haig fwyaf o bysgod Yellow Tail (dwi’n credu mae dyna beth oeddent yn cael eu galw). Cawsom farbeciw gyda Dave a Cissy i swper ac un arall i frecwast! - a chael llawer o hwyl yn eu cwmni yn ogystal â’r cwn, yn enwedig Matey, ci mawr cryf Dave a oedd mor gyfeillgar ac yn mwynhau rhedeg ar ôl pêl.
Wrth drafaelu o un lle i’r llall galwom a chwrdd â chwiorydd Gwen, sef Margaret yn ei gwinllan yn Wandering Brook ac Audrey a’i gwr Bill – dau sy’n dwli ar griced. Ymwelsom a’r Valley of the Giants ym Mharc Cenedlaethol Walpole-Nornalup. Y cewri yw’r goedwig o goed Karri a Tingle tal iawn ac fe gerddom ar hyd y Tree Top Walk sy’n codi bron i 40 medr uwchlan llawr y goedwig uwchben brigau’r coed. Hefyd yn ymwneud â choed fe’r aethom i weld y Gloucester Tree ym Mhemberton. Coeden o math Karri yw ac mae’n anferth o beth yn sefyll 61 medr o daldra. Cafodd y goeden ei begio yn 1946 er mwyn ei defnyddio fel twr gwylfa ar gyfer ‘bushfires’. Erbyn hyn mae dros filiwn o fobl wedi ymdrechu i’w dringo i’r copa ac deallais pam wedi i mi gyrraedd y brig gyda golygfeydd bendigedig yn fy nisgwyl yn ymestyn am filltiroedd uwchlaw’r goedwig.
I gyd, cawsom groeso cynnes dros ben gan deulu a ffrindiau Gwen a diolch i bawb am eu cyfeillgarwch a’i haeliondeb. Cawsom llawer o sbort a chael gweld rhai o olygfeydd a rhyfeddodau gorau sydd gan Gorllewin Awstralia ei gynnig.
Arosom y noswaith gyntaf gyda Peter a Daphne ar eu ffarm Bundaleer yng Nghatanning. Ffarm fawr cnydau a defaid, 13,000 erw ydyw a chawsom y ‘grand tour’ gan Daphne yn ei ute (‘utility vehicle’) a chael hel llwynog daethom ar ei draws drwy ffrwcs un o’u caeau anferth cyn i’r llwynog cael y gorau a’n colli. Cawsom farbeciw gyda’r hwyr a chael clywed hanes a gweld lluniau o’u teithiau ar ddraws Awstralia. Maent yn teithio gyda dau gwpwl arall ac yn aml yn trafaelu hyd at 15,000km dros cyfnod o fis i chwech wythnos – y rhan fwyaf ohono yn gyrru drwy ganol anialwch Awstralia.
Arhosom yr ail a’r drydedd noswaith gyda Kevin, brawd Gwen, ym Mount Barker. Mae Kevin yn byw yn y wlad, drws nesaf i’r ffarm y cawsant eu dwyn lan arni a felly cawsom ymweld a’u cartref cyntaf hefyd. Fe’r aeth Kevin a ni am drip i Albany (y brif dref agosaf i Mount Barker) a chawsom weld pa mor wahanol yw’r wlad reit lawr yn ne Gorllwein Awstralia i gymharu a gweddill y dalaith. Maent yn cael tipyn fwy o law yma a felly yn lle y tirwedd melyn sych roeddem yn arfer ei gweld mi’r oedd hi’n dipyn yn wyrddach, llawer debycach i gartref. Ymwelsom a nifer o lefydd gan gynnwys Mount Clarence ble mae’r ANZAC Memorial yn edrych i lawr dros Albany a’i chyffiniau; Emu Point, The Gap a’r Natural Bridge tirwedd arbennig ar hyd yr afordir; a hefyd Whaleworld. Whaleworld oedd yr orsaf olaf ar waith yn Awstralia ar gyfer prosesu morfilod wedi’u hela tan iddo gau yn 1978 ac erbyn hyn mae wedi ei droi i fewn i amgueddfa ar hanes yr orsaf ac ar hela morfilod. Roedd yn le digon arswydus ar yr un llaw ond yn ddiddorol dros ben ar y llaw arall ond mi’r wyf yn falch iawn nad yw’r orsaf yn cael ei ddefnyddio bellach am ei bwrpas gwreiddiol a nad yw Awstralia yn hela morfiloed bellach. Wrth drafaelu ogwmpas Albany daethom ar draws nifer fawr o belicans, fwy o gangarws (dydym ddim yn blino gweld y creaduriaid hyfryd yma) a hefyd un skink bach du – math o fadfall (lizard) yw ond fod ei groen yn ymweld yn feddal. Mae rhaid dweud fod Kevin, neu Kev fel roeddem yn ei alw, yn foi a hanner, bachan ffein iawn a dros y dwy noswaith buom yn aros gyda’g ef darganfuom ei fod yn gwc a hanner hefyd. Cawsom wledd o brydiau gyda’r hwye gan gynnwys cig oen wedi ei rhostio gyda’r ‘full works’ heb anghofio frecwast wedi ei goginio bob bore (wyt ti’n cymryd sylw Nia?).
Fe arhosom ar ein dwy noswaith olaf ym Musseldon gyda Dave a Cissy, a Matey a Jess, y ddau gi. Mae cartref Dave a Cissy yn edrych allan dros warchodfa natur ac mi’r oedd ganddynt olygfa bendigedig o’u gardd cefn gyda’r holl amrywiaeth o adar i’w gweld ac ar rhai adegau o’r flwyddyn byddent yn gweld cangarws hefyd. Tra ym Musseldon gwnaethom ymweld a nifer o lefydd cyfagos fel tref Margaret River, canolfan gwin byd enwog ond gwell byth mae Margaret River Chocolate Company yno hefyd – gyda samplau am ddim!!! Rhaid oedd i Nia a Gwen fy llusgo allan o ‘na. Ymwelsom â Bootleg Brewery a rhaid oedd cael blasu pob un o’i diodydd cyn penderfynnu pa un oedd orau. Buom hefyd yn Canal Rocks a phentrefi bychain Yallingup a Dunsborough am olygfeydd arfordirol arbennig a mynd i nofio ym Munker Bay. Nôl ym Musseldon cerddom ar hyd y pier – yr ail pier mwyaf yn y byd ryw 1.7km o hyd ac ym mhen pella’r pier roedd yr Underwater Observatory ble roedd modd gweld y bywyd môr cyfoethog roedd yn bodoli o dan y pier ei hunan gan gynnwys yr haig fwyaf o bysgod Yellow Tail (dwi’n credu mae dyna beth oeddent yn cael eu galw). Cawsom farbeciw gyda Dave a Cissy i swper ac un arall i frecwast! - a chael llawer o hwyl yn eu cwmni yn ogystal â’r cwn, yn enwedig Matey, ci mawr cryf Dave a oedd mor gyfeillgar ac yn mwynhau rhedeg ar ôl pêl.
Wrth drafaelu o un lle i’r llall galwom a chwrdd â chwiorydd Gwen, sef Margaret yn ei gwinllan yn Wandering Brook ac Audrey a’i gwr Bill – dau sy’n dwli ar griced. Ymwelsom a’r Valley of the Giants ym Mharc Cenedlaethol Walpole-Nornalup. Y cewri yw’r goedwig o goed Karri a Tingle tal iawn ac fe gerddom ar hyd y Tree Top Walk sy’n codi bron i 40 medr uwchlan llawr y goedwig uwchben brigau’r coed. Hefyd yn ymwneud â choed fe’r aethom i weld y Gloucester Tree ym Mhemberton. Coeden o math Karri yw ac mae’n anferth o beth yn sefyll 61 medr o daldra. Cafodd y goeden ei begio yn 1946 er mwyn ei defnyddio fel twr gwylfa ar gyfer ‘bushfires’. Erbyn hyn mae dros filiwn o fobl wedi ymdrechu i’w dringo i’r copa ac deallais pam wedi i mi gyrraedd y brig gyda golygfeydd bendigedig yn fy nisgwyl yn ymestyn am filltiroedd uwchlaw’r goedwig.
I gyd, cawsom groeso cynnes dros ben gan deulu a ffrindiau Gwen a diolch i bawb am eu cyfeillgarwch a’i haeliondeb. Cawsom llawer o sbort a chael gweld rhai o olygfeydd a rhyfeddodau gorau sydd gan Gorllewin Awstralia ei gynnig.
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