From a Bangkok reunion with mum and dad, and visiting the more politically correct of the city's attractions, I flew to Sydney - Bondi, beach babes and bums, and of course the iconic Bridge and Opera House around Mrs Maquaries point. In my rush to post a few souvenirs back to the UK before the Post Office closed (last minute moi?), I returned the photo CD of the first half of my Oz experience before posting it on this website, so no pics of that bit I'm afraid. I headed out to the Blue Mountains about 2 hours West of Sydney to walk the 6 Foot Track, 27 miles with the strong scent of eucalyptus in the air from the gum trees found all over this huge country. Spotted wallabies, Eastern grey roos and a rather large black snake sitting in wait at the camp ground at the half-way point. Unfortunately most of the walk was in the valley surrounded by high trees, so views over such evocative sites as Scrubbers Hump and Biddys Creek were limited. Jumping in the parents' rented camper van, we met our Oz cousins Rob and Pat (and I later met their son and my namesake Michael Sanderson and girlfriend Stella). Off to the Grampian National Park for 5 days of walks, much of the forest had been devastated by fire in January; but the autumn colours were out and new green shoots reappearing, which made for a colourful landscape. We returned along the Great Ocean Road, stopping every 100 metres or so for another shot of the 12 apostles, the golden beach, clear blue seas and white surf, and towering sandstone cliffs. Back in Melbourne, we caught the end of the Commonwealth Games along with millions of others filling the city, and then the incredibly noisy F1 Grand Prix. I then headed south to Tasmania (as my parents flew and camper vanned further north), cold and wet enough to be snowing on the first night at Cradle Mountain. Some poor souls were commencing the Overland Track, supposedly beautiful in clear weather, but I certainly wasn't geared up for it. I had shared a car hire with a scottish girl who taught me such highland gems as 'it's a bonnie braw bricht nicht ta nicht'. After Port Arthur, the former convicts prison of Van Diemans Land, we stopped in Hobart, where the main activity seemed to be to go on the Cadbury site tour..mmm I'm not missing work that much to do that again just yet. Talking of hard work, the next group of serious trampers we came across on the south coast had walked, waded and slopped through about 80 kms of track, untamed forest and waist-deep creeks in wet cold weather carrying upwards of 30kgs. The massochistic pioneering spirit is still alive then. I wound up spending easter with one of their number in Gippsland east of Melbourne (thanks again Rob Hooper), helping to clear his felled trees and weed the organic vege patch. Oh, and get in trouble with the local fire wardens for starting a fire whilst restrictions were still in place... Flying up to Alice Springs, I was lucky to be picked up on my first attempt at hitchhiking by an all-female group of bushwalkers, and whisked off to Palm Valley, a beautiful gorge about 100 miles west of Alice Springs, resplendent with ancient palm trees in otherwise barren outback semi-desert scrub. The Finke river which rarely flows there is supposedly the oldest river in the world, at 350-400 million years old. Then a big group tour to Ayers Rock (Uluru as it's known by the aboriginal people), the Olgas (Kata Tjuta) and Kings Canyon. Very photogenic of course, with white ghost gum trees, green bushes after recent rain, reddy-orange sandstone and clear blue skies. The guide, practising to be a prison officer, provided most of the entertainment in my book, a real character who endeavoured to keep everyone 'in line'. Not the kind of trip I would normally choose, but needs must.. Darwin had narrowly missed a cyclone the week before I arrived, so much of kakadu National park was inaccessible. Instead I hired a car with a keen German photographer and we camped a couple of nights around the plentiful waterfalls of Litchfield NP. Flying east to Cairns, I splashed out on a 3 day liveaboard dive trip on the Great Barrier Reef. Having got my Open Water Diver certification in Vietnam, I was ready to go. Unfortunately my buoyancy control wasn't quite up to scratch on the second dive, which was assessed, so i could only complete the Adventure Diver cert rather than the Advanced one, but 11 dives later i was getting the hang of it. Beautiful fish and coral of course, and sharks on a night dive, gave me a taste for more. Finally I Greyhound bussed down to Brisbane, along with the rest of the student/fresh graduate fraternity of Western Europe via the Whitsundays and Fraser Island, where i joined in a self-drive 4x4 'safari', camped under the stars, drank lots and swam in fresh water lakes. Re-living my youth a little. In Brisbane I met up with our other relatives John and Hedy. John is a great talker and story-teller, just like his brother Rob, and i wish i knew as much as much about Blackburn as they do about their own towns (maybe i need to spend more time there...:) I've now arrived in New Zealand, apparently at the wrong time of year (Winter approaching), but here in Nelson, the north of the South Island, the sky is blue and it's warm days and cold nights. Maybe a little skiing next week though if the snow's arrived when I do get to the south west. Best wishes to anyone still reading this - hope the English summer is a good one.