Taking stock

31 days away, almost 10.000 km in one continent, 11 flights, 12 beaches, 4 BBQs and 2 fish&chips, 3 pizzas, 3 ice creams and even 2 pastas (Asian noodles not included).

26 cities, 1437 photos, 1 (sort-of) dive, 20 degrees temperature excursion on the continent, 40 degrees excursion upon return to Europe.

12 Sauvignon blanc, 1 Chardonnay, 8 Shiraz, 5 Australian lagers, 1 Japanese drink tasting like bubblegum.

A dozen kangaroos (half of them dead on the road), a few wallabies, about 20 koalas (all alive), a thousand penguins going home for dinner at dusk, 5 crocodiles, 3 shadows of sharks, dozens of parrots, hundreds (dead) jellyfishes, thousands colourful butterflies.

1 heat-induced headache, zero colds, zero sicknesses, 1 big smile.

Waving away the end of holiday blues

Back to Queensland for the last destination of the OZ tour, to towns with fancy names such as Noosa and Surfers Paradise. A bit posh the former, very laid back the latter. Small summer houses versus sky high hotel buildings. Roasted butternut pumpkin tortellini with sage butter at Gaston's there, fish and chips on the beach here. One thing in common: waves. Big ones, both places a surfer's dreamland.

If you did not take your board along, no worries, you can still go in the water to perform the local beach ritual: confined in 50 metre stretches delimited by flags, it is allowed to jump against the coming waves, in sync with the rest of the crowd, under the supervision of lifeguards and helicopters (safety first).

Sure, a long relaxing walk is always an option, the city will provide spotlights to make your sandy steps safe at night ('safety first' must be the unofficial title of the OZ anthem). Or just take the car, for an unforgettable ride between waves on one side and forest on the other. Speed limit on the beach is 80 km/h, 50 in "urban" areas (oh well, camps) and police is very strict. Whilst driving with high tide is not really recommendable, the beach is the best road to get to Fraser Island, where in fact, the beach is the only road available - as well as the only runway and unofficial cemetery of those hundreds blue jellyfishes.

With traces of sun on my skin, of sand in my shoes and Flathead fish&chips in my stomach, it is a little hard to pack up dirty clothes and good memories. Besides, the suitcase is almost exploding. A koala bear or a bottle of Shiraz too many?

Sydney - and the others

Darwin is an odd place. Temperatures and humidity make an impenetrable wall, there is no real centre or place to go for a walk, the beach and its waves are artificial, public transport stop at 6:30 pm - where would you want to go anyway?

Adelaide is a nice and relaxing spot to chill out, especially when coming back exhausted from the desert: a wine-tasting ride, the beach at Glenelg at sunset, cappuccino and panettone for breakfast. Besides, all the best restaurants are Italian - and closed between Christmas and New Year, what a fortunate coincidence.

Melbourne is shining and cheerful. Walking over Flinders street, Swanston and Elisabeth streets and Federation square to the Southbank is simply a pleasure. The skyline is beautiful, eating good food is a local pastime, and the king of noodles operates in the neighbouroods and makes giant portions. And - at last - restaurants do not close at 9 pm.

Sydney, however, is the star. Vibrant and laid back, healthy and voluptuous, daughter of captives and queen of culture. Mountains behind, a long bay at its heart and the infinite Ocean in front, with the majestic Opera House as its gate and Fort Denison as its outpost-turned-restaurant.
Take a ferry to Manly and enjoy the view and the breeze, the sea, the parrots and the windy beach. Or drive to Bondi beach, big waves, able surfers and good fun. But also a hike in the Blue Mountains to greet the Three Sisters or a stop at Penrith to greet an Italian-Australian family and enjoy old-style Italian hospitality and all the food that this implies.

So many things, so little time, so much desire to go back there again.

In Uluru

It is 44 degrees today and rangers' notices hung on isolated poles in the desert invite people not to go hiking today under the scorching sun. Red desert all around this solitary road. It is hard to believe that road sign on the left-hand side warning that the same road can be subject to floods. "When it rains every 7 or 8 years, it does happen" confirms Jenny, our tall, blond, solid local driver for today.

Snakes, lizards, scorpions and the other regular inhabitants of the area have all disappeared: who can be so fool and stay out there with this weather? But those fools have travelled thousands km by plane, car and coach only to see the show of these million-year-old rocks, shaped by the movement of the Earth and by the forces of nature, change colour as the sun marks the different hours of the day.

The show does not disappoint and, accompanied by a glass of good Chardonnay at sunset, the foolish tourists can happily go back to civilization with their load of pictures and heat-induced headaches.