Polly the tunnel

If you're thinking parrots at this point then prepare for disappointment.

Having demolished the crumbling greenhouse that came with the house when we moved in, our intention was always to make use of the solid concrete base on which it had stood. So having previous experience of one particular brand of polytunnel in our previous garden it was not a difficult decision for us to spend a bit of money on another one from the same stable. These things are well made and designed to be anchored down to the ground to enable them to survive most storms.

They are delivered as a series of tightly wrapped packages, some containing steel and aluminium parts and others with the wooden pieces which are partly precut to length. All this comes together with thirty eight pages of instructions. Just reading these took a good few hours so we decided to miss out on the real entertainment - watching hours of self help videos of people building polytunnels.

With a concrete base we first had to mark then drill holes for the anchor bolts before erecting the basic frame, this being a day's work on its own. Then the following day the rain started and it didn't stop for two days so we set about fashioning the doors and their supporting frames within the confines of our conservatory.

A brief lull saw us outside again drilling more holes and trying to make sure the door will actually fit into the door frames until again this was called off when the rain started. Some of the metal pieces require pre-bending to make them fit, this needing strong fingers and thumbs which, by the end of the day, are suffering and sore. At this point in the construction we just have a tunnel, no poly.

With these initial stages done it was time for the plastic bit to go on (page thirty in the manual). This comes with a rash of health warnings about picking a dry day with no wind so we checked the forecast and immediately spotted the storm warnings, thunderous rain showers with gale force winds, that were about to hit the south west of England. By contrast, however, Scotland was about to get a mini heatwave (sorry England) with negligible wind so we plan an early start the following day.

The enormous sheet of polythene arrives folded into one lump which has to be spread out so it can be pulled over the roof of the frame then stretched taught and clamped into position. At any point a strong gust of wind might carry it away but with the two of us working we soon had it fastened down with the skin tightened to the point where tapping the sides sounded like a drum, a very satisfying sound.

Finishing the job off we are very pleased with what we have achieved. It took a lot of physical effort but as soon as we step inside we can feel the heat being trapped in there. We have seeds and pots on standby waiting to go into action; tomatoes, courgettes, beans, cauliflower, to name but a few, and we look forward to watching their accelerated growth. Just one useful addition is needed inside - some staging to support the trays of tiny seedlings. For this we took delight in recycling various bits of wood which we had retained after demolishing the cupboards inside the house some months away and then used some of the many nails and screws which also came with the house. The result is solid, maybe not pretty, but functional. 

Seedlings are on sale almost everywhere locally just now so an expedition to the shops proved very fruitful.

Then we were offered another batch of tomato seedlings by a kind neighbour so suddenly we are growing at all levels. It feels good when things turn out this way.

Scotland warms up

Having spent the previous week looking from across the world at the weather forecasts for the west of Scotland and preparing ourselves mentally for a twenty degree temperature drop, within a week of arriving home the sun was out and was bringing with it a surprising amount of warmth. And so much had changed. Leaves were growing on trees where previously there were just buds, flowers had emerged on the gorse bushes and the bumble bees were busily searching for nesting spots in the long grass. Each day we looked out at something new, some just emerged shoots or the dandelions bursting into flower, until the day eventually came when it was warm enough to sit outside and take in everything with all our senses. So where do we end up? At the pond, of course.

The water level was high and the garden surrounding it was sodden (hardly surprising as we'd just missed a named storm, Kathleen). But was there life in the pond? Had Spring really arrived?

At first we could see nothing rippling the surface. Then after a few days there it was, movement, first one then more, pond skaters darting around. The weather improved again and several days later we were out there on our pond side seat (a pretty essential garden feature) and there was more; small nymph like beings swimming below the surface and a black beetle or two. Then it happened! A glimpse of movement whizzing across the bottom, tail flapping, then disappearing into the weeds. We have a newt, quite small but looking very relaxed. I have this mental picture of his mum wandering about, maybe getting bored with life on our neighbour's pond two gardens away, or perhaps she trundled down from the burn beyond our back fence, looking for excitement, and suddenly she discovers our little pond.

The water tastes sweet, there are insect larvae to chase, rocks to sunbathe on so she thinks:

'D'you know what, I think I'll lay some eggs here'.

Newts in our pond (we call this one Nigel) know they have humans looking after them as they can see us up on our pond seating and they will get no hassle from frogs or toads as they have yet to find their way here.

In a run of warm dry weather we find ourselves sitting by the pond making new discoveries. One day a water boatman rows himself around just under the surface using his arms like oars and then we spot a greater bee fly on the pond side vegetation. These things mimic bees but have very long noses which gives them away.

Soon they'll all be watching us erect the new polytunnel which replaces our rather broken greenhouse which we dismantled just before it collapsed or blew away in a gust of wind. It's all part of the grand plan, where we have an area of the garden to grow edible things and the rest is as wild as it wants to be. We haven't used a lawnmower since we moved in - why would you - and each day we are increasingly aware of what we can expect from the garden and which bits we have no desire to cultivate so we'll just let things grow. Throughout most of the garden we like to see what will grow without any intervention... and in many places this is moss, great luxuriant blankets of the stuff, soft underfoot (although we try not to walk on it too much) and always changing colour with the seasons. We read with horror about chemicals recommended for eliminating moss from the garden so the grass can grow. Such behaviour is alien to us.

The first few weeks back home after our holiday has taught us something important, something surprising, for which we were unprepared. Suddenly we look out of our living room window at the view below us and we're seeing it with new eyes. We're completely blown away by the beauty of the land we call home and we simply cannot get enough of it. Each day the view changes and excites us once again.

Australia - Brisbane

First impressions... it's an alien world. Well most cities are, to us, but this one is unlike any other city we have ever visited.

Seen from a high viewpoint, the clump of tall buildings appear to occupy quite a small area. Once down at street level however the real city emerges.

First of all it is modern. This is a place that has grown from almost nothing in barely a single lifetime. There is little that is more than one hundred years old; none of the buildings, the infrastructure, the roads, everything visible is freshly made.

There are concrete towers and steel bridges everywhere you look and this sense of fresh youthfulness seems to be mirrored in the age of the people visiting or living there. If there is an older population do they feel, like us, somewhat out of their comfort zone?

Then there's this, a picture taken from the same spot as the one above but looking in another direction. This is a bathing area right in the centre of the city, completely free for anyone to use, with lifeguards and showers thrown in. Just strip off down to your swimmers and wade in. Although there's clearly an emphasis on providing this facility for children, there is nothing preventing anyone of any age from spending all day splashing about there, all at the expense of the city.

Of course the Brisbane climate does have a lot to do with this. We were there coming into autumn but it was at least 27°C every day. This explains the city dress code, shorts and T-shirt for the blokes and as much skin as possible being exposed by many of the female gender, far more than we have ever encountered before. Of course much of this skin, on both genders, was darkened with tattoos, but this is not something unique to Brisbane, just more visible.

On our first day in the city we visited a 'wildlife park', which we might refer to as a zoo. 

Whilst this opportunity to observe Australia's animals was interesting, seeing so many in cages was unsettling for us all. Just one area, a large field, was home to an uncaged population of kangaroos and wallabies, these animals clearly having become acclimatised to putting up with humans in close proximity, although perhaps not enjoying it. For us this was followed by an afternoon dip in the sea and later a meal out in the city eating some excellent Greek food.

 

On our second afternoon in the city we hopped on a ferry for a sightseeing tour along the Brisbane river.

Once again we were amazed to discover that this too was free; you can cruise up and down all day if you want.

Of course Brisbane does provide plenty of opportunity to spend money should you be tempted. Most of the streets near where we were staying were lined with shops and restaurants, clearly catering for tourists and holidaymakers. Walking about though you had to stay alert, ready for the electric scooter whizzing up behind you. These things were everywhere, available for hire, and parked randomly on the pavements. Just use the app on your phone to wake one up, jump on and zoom off along the pavement or into the road. How on earth there aren't more casualties is mystifying but then this is just the perspective of someone who has been around more years than most Brisbane-ites.

Oh, one last positive thing. The Brisbane graffiti is better than anything we've seen before.

Finally the Uber cab to the airport brought our holiday to a conclusion. The long and painful journey around the globe in a plane awaited us, the in-flight movies doing little to take the mind off the hours of sitting still with the roar of the engines in our ears.

Australia - adventures

Ok so perhaps the word 'adventure' is a little too dramatic. We really didn't fly all this way to throw ourselves into anything too exciting or in any way dangerous. The aim was simply to visit and spend time with Kate's brother and his wife who volunteered their home to accommodate us and made us feel very welcome. We were accompanied, however, by our son Ben and his wife Naomi and they are both younger and more adventurous than us. Sitting on the stoop watching the birds come for their morning feed was never going to be enough for them.

A walk in the 'bush' kept them content for a short while, followed by a dip in our host's pool.

A couple of trips to Rainbow Beach to swim in the sea was quite an experience for us all too, the waves being a little too big for any actual swimming and it was really just about being bashed around.

The cooling off in a creek on the way back was most welcome though, surprisingly cool despite the heat of the day.

Our hosts also put some bikes at our disposal, one of which was electric, although ancient and heavy enough to be a serious health risk and quite difficult to manoeuvre around tight corners.

Then there was a bit of dolphin feeding at Tin Can Bay where these animals are so used to us that they come to the same place every day for breakfast.

These might have qualified as adventures for us but for our younger family they wanted more, much more. So first of all they booked us all on a coach tour to Fraser Island. 

This proved to be quite an adventure since the island (known now by its original name, K'gari, where the 'K' is silent) has no actual roads. From the ferry the ruggedly constructed bus took us along the beach before heading inland along rutted sandy tracks which bounced us all over the place, to visit a swimming lake and to show us the dense sub-tropical rainforest that covers the island.

We'd hardly started along the beach when we started seeing dingos, an animal the island hosts a considerable number of. These creatures are not to be messed with nor enticed with food and they will chase anything that runs away from them, apparently. There are strict rules about not feeding them and although we felt quite safe up in our four-wheel drive bus one has to wonder about the other holiday-makers making use of their rather smaller four-wheel drive 'utes' to visit the island and even camping out on the beach itself.

One of the main points of interest on the tour was the wreck of the Scottish built ship 'Maheno' towards the north end of the island

and then another treat for us tourists was when one of our coach drivers pulled out his didgeridoo and started playing, the sound carrying right through the dense forest.

With no time to recover from our island adventure, the following day saw us waving farewell to our younger family who had booked a two day canoeing trip in the Everglades, an area of rainforest not far from where we were staying.

This involved kayaking into the wilderness for a whole day, an overnight camp in a tent -hardly luxury - then paddling back the following day. Apparently there was wildlife a plenty but fortunately no encounters with large biting things.

For us elders, of course, the entire holiday was something of an adventure, even the final few days before our flight home which we spent in Brisbane, on which more is coming soon.

Australia - the language

Just to be clear, unless you're an Australian the word 'creek' is the noise made by walking on a loose floorboard and the word for water running off a hill is a 'stream' or if you're in Scotland, a 'burn'. Using the word 'thongs' to describe a pair of flip-flops could lead to an embarrassing misunderstanding but 'gummies' referring to waterproof rubber boots does seem to make some sense. All these are examples of differences that have crept into everyday use in Australia.

None of which explains how the pedestrian lights in Maryborough transformed into the Mary Poppins 'brolly' down or 'brolly' up symbols nor indeed why this 'sheila' (beautifully dressed lady) was so willing to have her picture taken. (This town is where P L Travers, author of the Mary Poppins novels, was born.) 

Maryborough also gave us an iron pig, 

a close encounter with a train, 

a spectacular 'dunny'...

...and some incredibly old trees.

What more could you ask for.

On our visit there we were blessed with a sighting of a pair of 'brumbies' (wild horses) grazing at the side of the road 

then on our return through Poona we finally got to see what any visit to Australia would not be complete without. (It turned out Poona is pretty much overrun with 'roos'.)

On one of our trips out we visited an 'op' shop, something we might have called a charity shop, and on the drive there we kept seeing yellow road signs with the word 'CREST' on them. At first we thought this was an instruction to hold outspread fingers to the head to imitate the crested cockatoo we'd seen earlier but eventually we realised that it was the equivalent of the 'Hidden Dip' sign used on UK roads. So just a different way of looking at the same thing. Thankfully these subtle changes to the language were easy for us 'pommies' to understand and we didn't make complete fools of ourselves during our time in 'Straya'.