Coal trucks from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Ken heads towards the coast to the south of Sydney. Encountering just one or two coal trucks along the way. Good job he’s got a flask of tea.
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Coal trucks
July 27th, 2011Nuns on the run
July 26th, 2011By the time I was called the ticket was crumpled. Slightly sweaty. Decided to rest it on top of my small pocket book. Into which I’d shoved various documents to support my case for a US visa. Letter of introduction from The Outward Bound Trust. Outlining my venture. Evidence of funds to support myself. Of ties to the UK. That’d I no intention of over-staying.
Glanced once more at the number printed on the small slip. Three hundred and ninety. Must been the twentieth time I’d checked it. Sat in the waiting area of the US Consulate. High above Sydney. Fiftieth or so floor. People came and went. Called forward to the small interview booths. If there was an order to it, it wasn’t numerical.
Curious about my fellow applicants. Sat about. Family with four daughters. Quite a few students. Overhearing snippets from the booths in front. Questioned mostly on their ability to support themselves. And a couple of nuns. One of whom bore an uncanny resemblance to Robbie Coltrane.
Then my turn. A few questions. More of a pleasant chat than an interview. Explained the purpose of my visit. Why I sought a visa rather than use the usual Visa Waiver Programme. Added I had various documents in support of my application. But these weren’t necessary. Ten year multiple entry visa granted. Helpfully advised that the duration of each visit would depend on the immigration officer at point of entry. So wise to keep hold of the paperwork.
Reflecting a short while later with my flask of tea, I felt rather buoyant. For one thing, I’d found the US Consulate very understanding. A few days earlier concerned Chilean ash clouds might preclude me from getting back in time from New Zealand for my interview. I’d explained the situation in an e-mail. Personal response within the hour. If was delayed, they’d be able to accommodate me. Just get in touch. And the morning’s experience had been similarly pleasant. I was really looking forward to visiting.
[Author’s note: Ken sought a Class B-2 tourist visa because he needs more than the three months permitted by the Visa Waiver Scheme for British Citizens. Time that includes that spent in Canada. So, de facto, a North American visa. Cost. About one hundred pounds]
Consular affairs on camera
July 26th, 2011Consular affairs from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Ken heads for the US Consulate in Sydney, Australia. In search of a visa.
A bit behind…
July 25th, 2011I’d finally made it back to friends in Sydney’s northern suburbs. Bit later than I’d hoped. Immigration to thank for that. Bite to eat. Glass of wine. Chance to reflect on the day’s events. There’d been the unexpected airport departure tax. Not included in the ticket. But only for those bound for Australia.
More expense. Which struck me as odd. Just why was Australia so expensive? If any country was justified in being more costly than, say, the UK, it was New Zealand. Far side of the world. Relatively small population. About four million to Oz’s twenty or so. And yet I’d found it pretty comparable to Blighty.
As we’d made our approach into Sydney the Captain had announced they were two hours behind. I’d laughed out loud. Quipped if you came out from the UK make it twenty years.
Rude awakening
July 25th, 2011How was I able to support myself, the official asked? Explained how I funded my travels. Added I’d paperwork in my bag that might be helpful. Offer accepted. Cursory check. He’d need to file a brief report. Just in case I was stopped again. I wasn’t sure where, or when, that might be. No particular plans to return once I’d completed riding along Australia’s eastern seaboard.
I’d been pulled to one side by an immigration officer at Sydney airport. Spotted I’d been here before. For a while. Resisting the temptation to be flippant. I’d a multiple entry visa. Six months per visit. Why not? Whilst I’d been able to satisfy the rather Orwellian Customs and Border Protection chap of my bona fides, I’d not taken kindly being stopped. British Citizen. If we’d much of a Navy left I’d have summoned the gunboats.
At least the woman in Quarantine was friendly. Nice smile. I’d explained I’d been here before. Last time with a bicycle. Knew the do’s and don’t’s. Not even a rummage in my bag. Allowed to proceed without further delay. Welcome to Australia.
Travelling around New Zealand
July 24th, 2011Today’s Kiwese word or phrase: "Pissed aside". Kills insects
And finally….
For my travels around New Zealand I used a Flexipass ticket on the InterCity bus network. And stayed in either Youth Hostel Association hostels, or those affiliated to the network. Excellent value for money. And the accommodation amongst the best I’ve ever seen. Consistently so. Often better equipped kitchens than most homes…
[With especial thanks to Roger from Birmingham, with whom I’d shared a campsite back in Australia, for his invaluable advice on travels around New Zealand]
New Zealand – a few fuggers
July 24th, 2011Today’s Kiwese word or phrase: "McKennock". Fixes cars
Sheep spotted – very few
Hobbits – even less
Naff cups of coffee – nil – absolutely none
Wet days – very few
Glaciers visited – one – Franz Josef
Cyclists met – one – Caroline
Time spent at sea – about six hours (didn’t want to overdo it)
French military tourists met – nil
[Ed. That’s quite enough statistics for now…]
In the clouds
July 23rd, 2011Today’s Kiwese word or phrase: "Ear roebucks". Type of exercise
Personal response. Within the hour. US Consulate in Sydney. Quite understanding about my predicament. Just let them know when I was back in the city and they’d sort something out. I’d feared I’d have to arrange a fresh visa interview. Incur a couple of weeks wait. Unable to make the one I had. Grounded in New Zealand by a volcanic ash cloud disrupting air travel.
Unable to reach them by telephone, I’d fired off a quick e-mail, explaining my problem. My timeline into Alaska. Asking, if I wasn’t able to make my scheduled interview, whether or not they could offer me an expedited one. Not hopeful. Expecting them to be inundated with such requests. So, doubly surprised at such a quick, individual reply.
In the event, there was no need to take up the Consulate on their offer. Able to make my scheduled flight and arrive back in Sydney a few days ahead of the interview. Before the cloud closed in again.
Bristol shape
July 23rd, 2011Today’s Kiwese word or phrase: "polla-tucks". What MPs engage in
Glasgow, I’d explained, had the coma scale. Measurement of consciousness. Intriguing. As not even dead people can attain the lowest rating. But Bristol has stools. Not the sort you buy from IKEA. The other type. Three or four a good score. There’d been a quick search of the web. Not yours truly I hasten to add. Pictorial guide. Passed around the breakfast table.
Note to self. Add stools to list of verboten topics for polite company. Now numbering five. The others being sex, religion and politics. And koalas.
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Reflections on New Zealand
July 24th, 2011I’d not exactly liked New Zealand. I’d loved it. In so many different ways. Dramatic scenery. True. It might be cold, wet and windy here. But the people. Warm. Friendly. And, for all my teasing examples, I’m a bit smitten with the accent. I can take being called "Kin". And being sat on the edge of the Pacific Rim. Some serious fault lines. As Christchurch can attest to.
Neighbours they may be, but New Zealand isn’t Australia. Definitely not. Whereas Oz strikes me as a bit brash, a big gawdy, even greedy, "NZ" is, well, rather charming. Genuine. Welcoming. Even the Customs and Immigration Officers. Because you’ve made the effort to come. Not simply to get you to open up your wallet. In fact, so much about the place is terribly reasonable. Sensible. Makes you feel right at home.
On a practical level, the cost of living seems broadly similar to that of the UK. Which, given it has about a fifth of the population of Australia, and a similar reliance on imports, does seem surprising. Its neighbour being considerably more expensive. Exploring, albeit briefly, has been a joy. Efficient, affordable public transport. Some of the finest hostels I’ve ever seen.
I’ve no plans to emigrate. Anywhere. But if I ever were to consider it, it’d be New Zealand. A few years in Australia. Perhaps. But settle somewhere permanently? No contest. Certain I could live here. Think I could fit right in. For now though, I’m settling on returning with my trusty steed. Reckon three months would be great. Might be a few years off. But return I shall.
Tags: analysis, comment, reflections
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