Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts

Tuesday, 8 March 2011

EDIBLE BUSH TOURS IN AUSTRALIA'S RED HOT CENTRE












Witchetty grubs were on the breakfast menu at Kings Canyon, a rugged gash in the George Gill ranges near Alice Springs, in central Australia. It was not my ideal way to start the day, but I managed to swallow one by pretending it was scrambled egg.

Jacinta, my aboriginal guide, next offered me a green plum (reputed to be the world's richest source of vitamin C) and as we continued our morning walk, she plucked other edibles in what appeared to be inhospitable bush. She found desert raisins and rock figs and pointed out the tracks in a dry creek bed made by a goanna, another aboriginal delicacy. Then suddenly she bent down and scrabbled in the sand.

‘Charlie Quink-Quink,’ she showed me a tiny termite in her hand. 'We put him on our breasts to make them bigger.' Was it ground into a paste like a quandong kernel, or crushed and painted on like milkwood, I wanted to know? ‘He bites your nipple and makes it grow,’ she giggled.

The Northern Territory Conservation Commission grades Outback walks as easy (Emu), moderate (Sand Goanna) and tough (Rock Wallaby).

The walk up Kings Canyon, a height of nearly a thousand feet was all Rock Wallaby, I decided on the hot climb, but my efforts were rewarded on reaching the top to find a great view and an oasis of exotic plants, including pre-historic cycad palms. Two backpackers who had also made it to the canyon rim had stripped off and lay stark naked beside a rock pool.

Sneaking away, I missed the track and spent a frightening hour walking round in circles. It’s easy to become lost in the Outback. Rangers advise you carry a litre of water to drink for every hour you walk, and to leave a note on the car windscreen saying where you’ve gone.

It is three hour’s drive from Kings Canyon to Uluru, the huge monolith which sits on the horizon like a giant cow pat. Climbing it is an equal challenge, but its Anangu custodians would prefer you didn‘t. More than 600 millions years old, it is a sacred site and every nook and cranny has a significance in their Dreamtime.

I felt to climb the rock would be like wearing shoes inside a mosque. But another reason was the gusts of hot wind. As I stood at the base, a variety of headgear came whizzing down from tourists climbing above me: Terry-towelling hats and Akubras landed in the bushes. Even a white canvas hat embroidered Wimbledon 2010 floated down like a lob by Venus Williams.

Sightseeing alternatives to scaling Uluru include peddling slowly round it on a bicycle, flying across it by light aircraft, or drifting over it in a hot air balloon. There are also guided walks lead by softly spoken aboriginal guides who point out bush edibles such as those I sampled at Kings Canyon.

The best time to visit Central Australia is between April and September which corresponds with the local winter. $25 entrance fee to the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park. Free access to Kings Canyon.

Images from www.copix.co.uk

Sunday, 27 September 2009

BORN AGAIN VEGEMITE

Ruddymite, Wow Chow and 2ritemite were some of the 48,000 suggestions for a new version of Australian VEGEMITE before Kraft Foods settled on the less than mouth-watering name iSnack.2.0.

Like most (all) Australians, I went onto Vegemite as soon as I came off the breast.

We ate it on toast for breakfast. Vegemite sandwiches were taken to school. Either neat or with slices of cheese. And `Fairy Fingers`-Vegemite on thinly sliced white bread - were served at children`s birthday parties.

It is understood that the new hybrid VEG is mixed with cream cheese to make it spread more easily, but as far as I`m concerned, it was always easy to spread. And it was one of the first items I threw in when packing for a trip. As important as my toothbrush. Or my typewriter.

Vegemite was impossible to find in London when I arrived in the sixties along with Germaine Greer, Clive James, Richard Neville & Co. We had to depend on friends bringing it over by sea when it was valued no less than the recent Roman hoard found in Shrewsbury.

I would decanter it into something small to ensure I had it for breakfast wherever I happened to be. And if it was to be a long research trip, I took an entire jar with me.

Racing to catch a flight in Kenya on one occasion, I left the precious black spread in a taxi and have wondered since what the driver made of it. (Did he taste it, or grease the axles with it?)

Sainsbury`s , the mega UK supermarket chain now stocks Vegemite so expats no longer feel deprived, although I recently had to take a jar out to a friend in Zanzibar.

I wait patiently to try iSnack 2.0 which is being marketed with such hype you`d think it was a newly discovered species of Australian marsupial.

Dean Robbins, a 27 year old web designer from Perth who chose the new product name is quoted as saying: `To think I will go down in history is overwhelming.`

C.Christine Osborne
Image: www.copix.co.uk


Monday, 10 August 2009

SPEAR-FISHING IS FOR BONEHEADS










Sorry, for the spear fisherman drowned off Sydney, but ..

Those who would protest at the indiscriminate shooting of native birds, seem not to object to the ugly activity of spear-fishing in Australian coastal waters.

I recall as a child, a giant blue-green parrotfish, lying on the sand with a hole in its head at Long Reef, one of Sydney`s northern beaches.

A trusting fish which does not flee a diver, the parrotfish is not tasty eating, so clearly this was slaughter. Now forty years on, you can dive anywhere around Sydney, but you won`t see a giant parrotfish any more..

It`s a mockery to have state road patrols which care for injured wildlife - even snakes -while spear-fishermen continue to kill innocent marine life.

The boneheads even hold competitions to see who can spear the biggest fish!

I have absolutely nothing against spear-fishing in poor African countries where entire families depend on the catch for food.

But it is totally unacceptable in Australia which considers itself a developed, eco-friendly nation.

c.Christine Osborne
Image: Pity the porcupine fish, inedible, but speared for fun....

Thursday, 16 July 2009

BLUE MOUNTAINS NATIONAL PARK


MY BOY`S BEEN FOUND!

The area where Jamie Neale, the British bushwalker went missing, is the Blue Mountains National Park, a World Heritage Site located in the Great Dividing Range, 70 miles west of Sydney.

The name `Blue Mountains` derives from the blue haze produced by oil exuding from the gum-trees - more than 91 eucalypts have been identified - which cover the area in often impenetrable bush.

Few bushwalkers are aware of the park`s spiritual significance to aborigines of whom the Gundungarra and Darug are the main local tribal groups. Features in the landscape, perceived as merely a rock, or a waterfall, have powerful mythological and ceremonial links with their ancestral Dreamtime.

Weathered rock up-thrusts, known as the Three Sisters, photographed by coach-loads of tourists every day, are in fact Meehni, Wimlah and Gunnedoo from aboriginal legend. To protect them from harm, a witch doctor turned them to stone, but before he could reverse the spell, he was killed in a feud with a tribe lower down the mountain.

Before white men came, aborigines lived in this natural wilderness eating `bush foods` along with killing the odd wallaby, or two. Still today, there are no facilities.

Jamie survived by eating berries and sleeping rough, only a mile away from 3-star restaurants in Katoomba, the town above the Jamieson Valley where he was found. It`s a very spiritual place: note the names.

C.Christine Osborne
Image: The Three Sisters, Katoomba, NSW
Source: www.copix.co.uk

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