Burning Desire For FIRE

Financially Independent, Retired Early(ish) at 57.

Little Adventures #23: Harold Holt’s beach.

Back in 1967, just before Christmas, Australia’s Prime Minister walked into the waves of Cheviot Beach on the Mornington Peninsula for a swim and was never seen again.

Typically for Australia, he has a swimming pool named after him in Glen Iris. Why not?

I decided to get July’s Little Adventure done yesterday, because the weather forecast for the rest of the month was looking very wet and brisk. I googled ‘tourist destinations near me’ and saw that the place where Harold Holt disappeared was an hour’s drive away. Perfect! I’ll knock over a few podcasts and see something new.

He was originally the Treasurer before becoming Prime Minister, and was only 59 when he died.

OR DID HE DIE?????????

Apparently, there were many conspiracy theories, including that the Chinese picked him up in a submarine.

Fortunate Frogdancer arrived at the car park just in time to take a shuttle bus, saving me a long walk. The bus driver stopped, said, “The lady who wanted the Harold Holt memorial? It’s down there, and the rocks where he went missing are to your left.”

Here they are.

I decided not to hop over the gate and go exploring…

I was going to stay longer, even though it was cold and windy. There are a few short walks, the fort at the mouth of Port Phillip Bay, and the old quarantine station. But Kate rang, concerned that she was getting a few weird messages from Mum. I decided to head straight back and see what, if anything, was going on.

Spoiler: there wasn’t.

This is such a narrow spit of land. You can see the beach on both sides. The wind was moaning through the trees, but my fleecy jacket I bought for Antarctica was keeping me toasty warm. That’s a relief, because now I know I’ll probably be ok wearing this, a hat and cowl in Iceland etc and I’ll be fine.

I stopped at Rye and bought some chips to eat on the way home. They were bright yellow, which put me off a bit, but most of them mysteriously vanished before I got home.

A bit like Harold Holt…

Dad joke of the day:

Wednesday W’s #127.

What’s top of my mind: winter is bloody cold.

I’m sitting with the heater on, but my hands are stll cold. The sky is grey and just looking out of the window brings chills. I know for a fact that right now, there are tourists in Borneo walking around in shorts and t-shirts, laughing at the warm weather.

Where I’m going: The bank.

Mum and I are going on a road trip tomorrow. All of the banks that I visited with Dad to get me attached to his accounts, now have to be visited with Mum.

Where I’ve been: Coles.

I’m a devoted Aldi shopper, but every now and then I get an offer from Flybuys to spend $50 for 4 weeks at Coles, in return for a $50 voucher. I use it to get free meat.

It’s ok. I wander around, phone in hand with the calculator open, totting up how much my shopping costs. The game is to get it as close to $50 as pobble. Today’s total? $50.32c.

Yeah, baby!

Every time they offer the same deal, but for a higher spend each week, I simply ignore it. Eventually it comes down to the $50 for 4 weeks offer again.

What I’m reading: The latest Jackson Brodie book.

Kate Atkinson is a fantastic writer, and her Jackson Brodie series is a cracker. I’ve been reading this series over the last few weeks and I’ve been having a terrific time.

What I’m watching: Sister Wives.

Ok, I don’t know how this happened, but I’ve been sucked into this ridiculous reality show about a mormon family with 4 wives and 18 chilren between them. To see supposedly intelligent women make such STUPID financial decisions because their husband drags them from pillar to post is like watching a train crash happen in slow motion.

What I’m listening to: Scout chewing her ball.

She’s obsessed.

What I’m eating: a roast chook from Costco.

You can’t go past a Costco chook. Connor has to get his own dinner tonight – Georgia and i are having a roast dinner!

What I’m planning: getting furniture for Mum’s room.

Mum’s legs are swelling with fluid, so Kate and I have decided that we need to get her armchairs from the house. They are recliners, so she can watch tv with her legs up. Tom33 and David32 are going to be loading up a trailer with some odds and sods from the house, which will make Mum’s room much more ‘homey’ and comfortable.

Who deserves a thumbs-up: Stephen Colbert.

More people should tell Trump to go fuck himself.

What has made me smile: The photo at the top of this post.

I have two long flowerpots at either side of my front door, and I buy small ‘potted colour’ pots to have flowers there. Last year I bought 4 gerberas, and when they finished flowering I decided to see if they’s flower next year if I planeted them in the garden.

Look!

Dad joke of the day:

Wednesday W’s #126

What’s top of my mind: wondering how cold it’s going to be in Iceland, etc.

I’m so used to travelling with carry-on luggage, but I’m starting to wonder if I might need more space for more clothes. It’ll be autumn when I’m there, so it won’t be as cold as it can get, but I’m pretty sure it’ll seem pretty darned cold to me. My dependence is on my merino tops. Layering.

Where I’m going: The Motley Bauhaus.

Evan28 and his friends have a one night only show tonight. I’m going to go along and surprise him. It’s a sketch show, so who knows what it’ll be like? It’s part of the fun to find out. Evan28 is a very funny person, so I’m pretty sure I’ll have a laugh.

Where I’ve been: Bonbeach and my parents’ old place.

We’re beginning to clear out Mum’s place and either take things to the op shop, or bring them back to her room. The photo shows an orchid that’s just beginning to bud. Mum wanted it brought back to stand outside her window, where she can see it.

My sister-in-law loves orchids, so she’s taking the other ones Mum had in pots in her backyard. I’ve got a maple Dad bonsai-ed years ago, and a daphne in a pot that used to belong to Auntie Doris, Mum’s cousin. They’re now sittting on either side of my front verandah steps. My Mum and Dad pots, if you will.

I dug up some white irises from the front yard. These came from some that my grandmother gave Mum, decades ago. Now they are under the bottlebrush tree in my front yard. Kate didn’t want any; they’re too messy for her. But I like the history.

What I’m reading:

Some fabulous short stories. I’ve had this tab open for about 3 weeks, and I’ve been making my way down the list whenever I’ve had a spare snippet of time. Most of these stories are very. very good. The only one I didn’t bother with is the J D Salinger one. I can’t stand ‘Catcher in the Rye’ – I wanted to slap Holden Caulfield.

Some of the links don’t work, but just take the title and author’s name and put pdf after them. Only one story (‘God Bless America’) didn’t come up, but the others all did.

‘Daisy Jones and The Six’ by Taylor Jenkins Reid. I’ve come late to the party wth this one – even Kate has read it before me, and she’s not an all-devouring reader like I am. It’s loosely based on Fleetwood Mac in the ‘Rumours’ era, and the way she’s told this story is unusual, but very effective.

What I’m watching: Dept Q on Netflix.

Just like when I saw ‘The Boys’, this one had me n the first 5 minutes.

What I’m listening to: Birds.

One of the things that makes living here in The Best House in Melbourne is the birdsong. When we were kids, we’d spend our school holidays in Inverloch, where Mum’s parents lived after they retired. The birds were different there to anywhere else I’ve lived. Except now.

Every now and then a bird will cry out and I’m instantly back in Inverloch. It’s lovely.

What I’m eating: ham and cheese scrolls.

Well, I haven’t made them yet. But I have a hankering, and I’m sure Georgia won’t object.

What I’m planning: a Little Adventure.

Oof. Remember those?

When I retired, I decided that every month that I wasn’t travelling, I should go and do or see something new to me. A day trip. I’ve been doing so much travel over the last 2 years that the Little Adventures have been few and far between.

But I’m not going anywhere this month. šŸ™

So I have to start thinking about where this month’s Little Adventure will be.

Who deserves a thumbs-up: Scout.

It makes Mum so happy when Scout trots into her room, wagging her tail. Mum’s missing Dad so much, so anything that brings her happiness is a very good thing.

What has made me smile: Procrastination.

My poor veggie garden looks AWFUL. After I harvested last summer’s crops, it has been left to rack and ruin while I gallivanted all over Asia and Africa. I’d be happy to leave it be, but I have 3 different sorts of garlic to plant. They go in at the winter solstice, and they are harvested at the summer solstice. If I was going to have free garlic for another year, they had to get into the ground.

I got up on Monday morning, and when my feet hit the ground I said, “That garlic will be planted by Friday!”

By 2 PM that day, every clove was in the ground. Just as well, because when I opened up the paper bags I’d put them in last year, they were already starting to sprout.

In my head, the job was so much larger than it ended up being. That gave me heart. Yesterday I cleared out 3 more garden beds, which will be all fertilised up and will then lay fallow until I get back from the Iceland/Greenland/Scandinavia/Baltics trip in October.

I’m also thinking about how I want my back yard to look on Christmas Day. It’s my turn to host.

Dad joke of the day:

We are the luckiest people to have ever lived (so far.)

Yesterday I had all the kids (except Izzy) over for lunch. Ideally, I like to catch up with them in between trips, but it’s like herding cats now that they’re all adults with their own lives. Last week on the ‘Wednesday W’s’ post, I showed a photo of 4 generations of engagement rings, from my great-grandmother, grandmother, my mother and me. Yesterday Sophie was there with Tom 33, so we lined the rings up again and took another photo.

5 generations!

My great-grandmother’s ring is a crystal. It’s cracked, as I found out when I recently had it cleaned and the claws fixed. I left it as it was. She was very poor – she was a washerwoman, I believe.

The next generation was slightly better off. If you look closely, you can see that my grandmother’s ring has tiny diamond chips. Fancy.

Mum’s ring is next. It’s an actual diamond, though, “We had no money, so the ring is more setting than diamond!”

Mine is next. We used to call it “The Rock.” Personally, I wanted an emerald with two little diamonds either side (which was a ring I eventually bought for myself when I took the kids to Thailand, years after my divorce.) My fiancĆ© was a first-gen immigrant from a desperately poor family. He was running a fruit shop. He wanted a statement ring. The Rock is certainly that.

Sophie’s ring is another diamond, but this time it’s a black diamond. She is an avid skier, and Tom33 bought a black diamond for her, as they are the most prized of the ski slopes.

In the photo above, Sophie’s ring has caught the sunlight. Here’s what it looks like normally:

What I find fascinating about these rings is that it shows the definite improvement in the fortunes of a VERY working class family. I was the first person to finish secondary school and get a uni degree in my Mum’s family. We were certainly not rubbing shoulders with the Vanderbilts and the Rothschilds! And yet, a luxury item like an engagement ring slowly became more and more valuable over time, to the extent that the last one in the line – Sophie’s – is now chosen not for actually having a diamond, but is now chosen for the TYPE of diamond.

Every time I hear that living conditions are sliding and that things have never been worse, I know that’s absolute bull5hit. Every student of history knows that life for the common person has never been better than it is today.

For example, who in their right mind would want to go back to live in medieval conditions? Nowadays, our standard of living is better than kings in that era. Every time we reach out and casually switch the heater or the aircon on, we’re winning. Putting the foot down on the accelerator, instead of riding on horseback or worse – being jolted around in a carriage with little suspension and dirt roads. Streaming practically any show we can think of, instead of waiting for a minstrel or travelling players to come and provide entertainment.

Try living in the squalor of life in the tenements in the Victorian era. All throughout history, imagine walking across the street with horseshit all over the roads, chimney sweeps as young as 4 being forced down chimneys, the Black Death killing between 30% and 60% of Europe… yikes. Obviously, the list goes on, but I have gardening to do and those garlic bulbs aren’t going to plant themselves.

This really hit home to me when I was in my early forties. I had been single for a decade or so and I was wondering if Mr Right was ever going to come along. (Strangely, men weren’t queueing up to be with a broke single mother of four boys. God knows why!) I was watering my front yard, having a quiet whinge to myself, when the thought suddenly occurred to me that I was an ungrateful idiot. I thought of the MILLIONS of women from the past who would have killed for the chance to live the life I had.

I was independent, with total control of my finances, where I lived, and how I chose to support my family. I was freely able to divorce my ex-husband AND keep custody of our kids. I wasn’t tied to someone else’s choices with money and life decisions. I was captain of our own boat.

I was educated and so I was able to support my family by teaching, instead of farm work, cleaning or lying on my back. My children were also being educated and they’d have opportunities far beyond what the ordinary women of the past could have dreamed of for their children.

We were vaccinated, could vote, and cook with the flick of a switch, instead of building up a fire every day. I was free to travel as widely as my time and finances could allow. (I had no idea what amount of crazy travel waited me though!) I had total freedom at home to do, say and be whatever I wanted.

Tell me when in the history of humankind have ordinary women ever had this much freedom and autonomy?

That very moment was when my life changed and I realised that I’m one of the luckiest people on the face of the earth. My life was immeasurably better than any generation of women before me.

The engagement rings are a tiny example of this. Over time, society is slowly getting better and better. Hell, in my travels in even the poorest of countries, every single vendor of every single tiny roadside shop selling fruit, veggies, and clothing all have a mobile phone. It’s universal… everyone scrolling through their mobiles while they wait for customers.

Are things perfect now?

Haha, of course not. There’s still so far we have to go in so many areas. Please don’t troll me in the comments by saying, “Oh yeah??? Well what about blah blah blah.” We’re living in 2025, not in Utopia. But looking back and comparing, things are not so bad.

Even a cursory look at history will show that slowly but surely, we’re crawling out of the mud to stand up and gaze at the stars. We’re the luckiest people to have ever lived. I’m not sure that we take the time to appreciate that enough.

Dad joke of the day:

Wednesday W’s #125.

What’s top of my mind: Engagement rings.

We’re clearing out things from my parents’ place, and a few days ago we retrieved some jewellery. This row of rings are 4 generations of engagement rings from Mum’s side of the family.

The kids are all coming to my place on Saturday, so I’ll get Sophie to put her engagement ring next to the others. Then there’ll be 5 generations. How cool is this?

Where I’m going: Bonbeach.

As soon as I hit publish on this post, I’ll take Scout and we’ll go and take Mum for a walk. She’s losing mobility and she needs to build up her strength again. Her 2025 was pretty much sitting and watching Dad.

Where I’ve been: to the library.

I haven’t bought a book for the last 5 years or so. Instead, I use the local library, and for a bit of fun, I keep track of how much money I save by doing this. (At a rate of $30/book.) See the side bar…

A lot of the books I had on hold have come up, so presently I have about 10 books piled up beside my bed, ready to go. So far this year, I’ve read 62 books.

What I’m reading: some great books!

The Book of Guilt – Catherine Chidgey. This was sensational. It’s a slow burn and I don’t want to gve anything away. It’s set in an alternate future, where WW2 ended in 1943 in a draw, after that assassination attempt on Hitler’s life actually succeeded.

Caro Ramsay’s DCI Christine Caplan series. These are terrific. Set in modern-day Scotland, I’m loving them. I just finished the third in the series, then when I was getting the link for you, I discovered that number 4 has just been released. EXCITED! I raced across and put a hold on it at the library.

What I’m watching: The Buccaneers on AppleTV.

I’ve always meant to read the novel by Edith Wharton but I’ve never got around to it. This series is pretty darned good.

Also on AppleTV is Murderbot. I love the novellas and this show is wonderful.

What I’m listening to: the kids next door playing happily.

Aparently it’s school holidays. This is the first holidays that I didn’t realise. I’ve finally got the retired teacher mindset!

What I’m eating: nothing noteworthy.

What I’m planning: lunch for the family on Saturday.

Now that the kids are leading their own lives, getting us all together is like herding cats. I like to touch base with them in between my holidays, so this is the first one since Borneo. Sadly, Izzy won’t be coming, but everyone else will be there.

Evan28 will be moving back home in a couple of weeks, so this will mean a massive switch in the menu to vegetarian meals. Georgia and I will no doubt be having meat/cheat meals whenever Evan28 is busy at dinner times. šŸ™‚

Who deserves a thumbs-up: the locksmith.

Mum and Dad had a safe in the house that, by the end of his life, not even Dad could get into. It had a dial on the top that was impossible for Kate and I to manipulate. We tried for at least half an hour, until I lost patience and said, “Fuck it! We’re calling a locksmith!!”

Naturally, he got it open on the first try.

The “family jewels” were there. Nothing is worth anything – it’s all sentimental value. There was also a huge bag full of every key that had ever passed through my father’s hands. Yes, I don’t know why this was so precious, either.

Mum and I had a lovely time looking at the jewellery and she told me all the stories behind who owned each one. The plan is for Kate, Mum and I to go through and we’ll take what we’d like, then we’ll have a meeting with Mum and all of her granddaughters and they can select what they’d like. Kate has two daughters and my brother has one.

I asked Mum if Georgia would be considered a granddaughter. Mum looked startled for a second, then said, “Yes. I think she is.” How wonderful for my trans daughter to have such acceptance..

What has made me smile: Seeing Megan (from Alaska/Canada) so excited about her new carpet.

At work, there’s a saying around a select few people about working deliberately towards early retirement. It’s called “doing a Frogdancer”, but with my IRL name, of course. Megan is being very strategic about how she deploys her finances. This year, she’s finishing off the last of the major house renovations by installing carpet throughout her unit. She’s done all her renos using cash and she’s been using her head when it comes to her long-term plans. I’m very proud of her.

Dad joke of the day:

Wednesday W’s #124.

What’s top of my mind: Time.

Can you believe that the last time I posted a Wednesday W’s post was at the end of January??? Wow. All of the travel blogging has taken over, but now I have a gap of a few weeks (oh no!) before I head off to Iceland, Greenland, Scandinavia and the Baltics. Time for regular blogging to get back ito gear.

WHAT a year this has been so far! It can’t be faulted on the travel side, though of course my life has been turned upside down since Dad had his fall and my parents have required so much time and care.

Honestly, there has not been a single day since my father fell that, when I’m home, I haven’t had to do something for them. Some days are all-encompassing, while others might be doing admin. I’m visiting Mum every day when I’m here. I’m not complaing, but it has required a big mental shift on my part.

The good thing is that the place where Mum now lives is happy for dogs to come and visit, so Scout usually comes with me. She still hates the car and begs to be allowed to go back inside when I open the car door, but once she’s there, she loves it. When Mum lived here for a month after Dad fell, Scout adopted her, so she-s always glad to see her Gran, while I pretend not to see the shnacks Mum quietly feeds her.

Where I’m going: 2026 travel is being booked, baby!!!

So far, The Galapagos Islands/Sth America for nearly a month; and Nepal/Bhutan for my birthday. I’m eying off some other destinations as well.

Where I’ve Been: Did I mention Borneo?

Haha.

Yesterday Mum, my sister Kate and I went into the city to organise probate for Dad’s will, and also to take Mum and my brother off as executors. Kate has already said that I’ll be the one doing everything. Oh joy.

It’s an uncomplicated will at this stage. Everything passes to Mum, so this is probably a good exercise in finding out what to do before Mum goes and we have to split the assets between us. I’m not looking forward to that exercise.

Still, I’m feeling better now that an expert is taking care of the boring nitty-gritty details. We had a nice day out, too. We made a day of it, going out for lunch as well.

What I’m reading: Look above. šŸ™‚

I read 8 books when I was in Borneo, and I have a stack of 7 books piled up beside my bed, with 2 more ready for me to pick up from the library. I see a lot of comfy reading days in my immediate future!

What I’m watching: Squid Game 3, and Alone Africa,

I’m livid at the news that Survivor Australia has sacked Jonothan LaPaglia as host and has cast David Genet to replace him. The man wn Survivor AND won 5 million US dollars on another reality tv show. He’s got BIG shoes to fill. JLP was amazing.

What I’m listening to: Tom Odell.

Tom33’s girlfriend put me onto him. It’s gentle, sad boi energy.

What I’m eating: Pea and ham soup with home-made bread.

It’s the weather for it. It’s bubbling away in the slow cooker as we speak.

What I’m planning: an epic holiday.

Guess what? Remember Antarctica, where I made such dear friends? Morgan, Baptiste and Corinna are joining me in Iceland! Remember North Korea, where I met the unforgettable James? He’s joining us!!! The 5 of us are going to have an absolute ball.

THEN: at the other end of my Scandi trip, I’m meeting up with Liga, (also from Antarctica, but we travelled together last year on the Epic Road Trip), and she’s going to show me the Baltics for a week. That’s Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, for those playing at home.

How fantastic is that? I’m so very happy that we’ll all be travelling tgether. James says that he might join us in the Baltics, which will be so very great. I’ve got my fingers crossed.

Who deserves a ‘thumbs-up’: Fortunate Frogdancer.

This is my mother’s laundry trough at her old place. A few days before, when Kate was there with Mum, she put something in there to soak. Unbeknownst to her, the tap had a slow drip.

We visited the house on Sunday to start clearing out cupboards. I nearly pushed it back, as I was tired after travelling 24 hours to get home, but decided to suck it up and just go.

Look at the water level – another hour and it would have started to flood. Phew!

What has made me smile: Look at the kms on my car.

Added to all the ones, is the fact that my trusty little Golf is 11 years old.

Dad joke of the day:

Borneo, Day 8: the Mari Mari Cultural Village.

Every roundabout here has a sculpture. This one is the hibiscus flower, which is the national flower of Malaysia.

Entrance to the Mari Mari Cultural Village is via a hanging bridge across a creek. This place was set up to showcase the 5 tribes of Borneo, showing how they lived and also offering food and drink tastings.

I wasn’t sure how this day would turn out. It could be good, or it could be hokey and a little bit Disney. Fortunately, it was good.

The first area we visited was the Rungus tribe, where they offered honey from stingless bees.

If you’re ever in the jungles of Borneo and feel like eating some honey, here’s what you need to do:

Cut a small hole in bamboo. 

Take it to the forest and leave for a month, but check once a week. 

When the hive is ready, take bamboo, cut it in half and harvest for the honey. Too easy!

The honey tasted very lemony. Not nearly as sweet as we’re used to. It was delicious.

Our next visit was inside a Rungus longhouse. I have to say, if I had to spend some time in the jungle, I’d be pretty comfortable here. Aside from being eaten alive by mozzies, of course.

One longhouse for 1 village. 

1 room for 1 family.

The longhouses could go for 1.5 km long, sometimes! When someone gets married, they just add another room.

Everyone in the tribe had to learn how to make fire. The boys… because they’d be out hunting for days in the jungle as men.
Girls… final task before she gets married. She has to make it before her prospective in-laws. No fire? It means she can’t cook, so therefore there’ll be no wedding.

Marat are the headhunters. There are two different types of headhunting.

  1. Ethnic cleansing. They kill the whole village, men, women, children, even babies.
  2. Normal headhunting. This is warrior to warrior. A man from this tribe needs to present a head to his in-laws to prove himself worthy to marry their daughter.

This is a coffin for a warrior. After 5 years, they come back, clean the bones and bury them.

ā€œWe will not be showing you the headhunting demonstration today.ā€ That’s a relief!

They used to hang the skulls around a house. It protected the village by acting as a deterrent. Too many skulls, a group of attackers will go to another village instead.

They call blow darts the silent killer. The poison on the dart paralyses the warrior. Then the attacker runs in, chops off the head and leaves the body there.

The dart can go as far as 50 metres, depending on the lung capacity of the warrior.

My lung capacity isn’t as good as that, but I managed to hit the wall both times. Happy with that.

Tapioca and sugar. We typically know tapioca as sago… little round balls. Mum used to make lemon sago when we were kids and I loved it. I must ask her how to make it.

This was ok, but without the sugar it’d be tasteless. Before European colonisation, they used honey for flavour.

Single lady staircase. They sleep above their parents and pull the ladder up with them. If they get attacked, the girls will hopefully escape notice.

In another longhouse, we were told that after the girls went upstairs to bed, the father would take the ladder and hide it in the jungle. If the girls needed to go to the toilet in the night, they had to wake their dad or their brothers to get the ladder for them.

Every time they chop off a head, they get a small tattoo from charcoal.

Nurseries look the same the world over.

What’s also the same the world over is alcohol. No matter where they live, people have always found a way to get drunk. Here, they make rice wine. The fermented rice wine tastes just like port. The unfermented one tastes like soju. (Happy memories of North Korea…)

Sugar, rice flour and water. Yum! Like crunchy, sweet noodles. They also served a ginger tea which was fantastic.

How to keep the kid quiet while Mum and Dad are working.

Straight after this, it was time for the cultural presentation. We were among the last groups to get there, but Fortunately Frogdancer snagged a seat in the second row, behind some very short kids. Not often that happens!

The musicians were good.


This dance was fun. On the beat, the bamboo poles are moved apart, then together. The dancers have to move in time to avoid getting caught.

The Murat longhouse has a trampoline in the middle. Yes, really.

They use the trampoline to celebrate their victories, or to see who can jump the highest.

Nowadays they hang money, a camera, an Apple Watch. The highest ones win.

Here I am midair, but only just. It’s safe to say that I wouldn’t win a cracker.

On the way back to the bus, I saw the hanging bridge and went across it again, just for fun. Morna was good enough to take this photo when I called out to her.

On the way back, we stopped so that people could buy souvenirs, and the people that were going onto the 5 star resort could buy cheaper wine. I wandered around on my own, only buying a postcard of a baby orangutan to put on my fridge.
Every morning while my coffee is brewing, I look at my fridge with its postcards and magnets from my travels and it makes me feel happy. Not a bad way to start the day.

I decided that my last night in Borneo would be spent entirely alone. I’m going back to probate with Dad’s will, dealing with disposing of my parents’ belongings, dealing with banks, real estate agents and other horrible things. Tonight was a night where no one would make any demands on me.

Not even a small, beloved dog. (Sorry, Scout. Mummy loves you.)

I went up to the rooftop bar and bought a couple of cab savs during happy hour. I saw a small group from our tour up there on the other side when I walked in, but I pretended I didn’t see them until I was settled at my table, book in front of me and wines in place.

We waved.

I stayed there for an hour and a half, just reading and sipping my wine. Piano music was playing, it was warm and very pleasant.

A dinner in my room of muesli bars – like China with Blogless Sandy! – and I finished my book. It was an introvert’s dream.

I fly out today and I’ll get back to a Melbourne literally 20 degrees Celsius colder than here. How is that even possible?!?

I’m so glad I came to Borneo. We only scratched the surface of it, as we only went across the top end, but we saw so much in our short time here. My main desire was to see orangutans up close, which we did in the sanctuary. Seeing sun bears and the proboscis monkeys was an unexpected joy, and as for the otters? omg, so rapt.

The interesting thing for me is how different I felt here from how I felt in Zanzibar. I was a little on edge in Zanzibar, whereas here I felt totally at ease and very welcome.

I wondered at the time in Zanzibar if it was all of the women in head to toe coverings, but the Muslims here do that too, so it clearly wasn’t that.

After mulling it over, I think that the people here in Borneo have a clear path forwards to individual prosperity, whereas in Zanzibar there was a much larger gap between the haves and the have-nots. I wouldn’t want to be there if any trouble started.

I booked this tour through TripADeal, and it was excellent value for money. I’m leaving with so much Malaysian money still in my wallet that I’m probably going to have to book a holiday on the Malaysian mainland, just to spend it!

Back to normal blog posts, until I leave for Iceland, Greenland, Scandinavia and the Baltics in a couple of months’ time. That’ll be the longest stretch I’ve been at home all year!

Dad joke of the day:

Borneo, Day 7: I found my Borneo art.

This will be a short post today, I think.

Most people tend to enjoy going to the beach. Today we had a day trip to an island off the coast of Kota Kinabalu, the city we’re staying in.

My friends and family know that I don’t go swimming unless it’s really hot. But look at me!

Sarah took this shot of me as I was about to go snorkelling in the South China Sea.

What can I say? The South China Sea is really warm.

Unfortunately I didn’t see any fish, though other people did. I put my name down for parasailing but it didn’t go ahead, as I was the only one who wanted to do it.

But some of us did sea walking. I wish I had’ve gone with them!
Basically, they plonk a helmet over your head, pump it full of air and off you go. They put fish food in your hands which are holding the helmet in place, so the fish come right up close to you.

I’m definitely doing this one day.

A monitor lizard came down to the beach to sun itself.

I wasn’t really looking forward to this day, but it ended up being quite nice. I was in the shade reading half a Kate Atkinson novel, we had a very nice seafood lunch and I went back in for another swim.

When we went back to the hotel… the Hilton, daaaarling… I arranged to meet Bron and Jason to go exploring. We decided to go to Australia Place, where Sarah said there’d be art.

These are very small, slightly bigger then bookmark width. I think they’ll look great in a frame together, without the words showing, of course.
Altogether, they cost me 10 ringgit, or $3 AUS.
It’ll cost far more for the frame, but at least, for once, I’m not paying a fortune for my art.

I saw these sun bear socks in other shop. You all know how much I love my useful souvenirs.

It turns out that Bron also lost her father recently, in somewhat similar circumstances to Dad’s death, so we had a good old debrief as we walked the streets of Kota Kinabalu. Jason, her husband, wisely walked a little ahead and let us talk.

Later, we all convened for our Farewell Dinner, even though we still have a full day to go. Maybe the restaurant was booked out on the appropriate night, who knows?

I took this shot on the way to dinner, through the bus window. A floating village, with modern skyscraper apartments in the background. I like the juxtaposition.Ā 

It was an authentic Borneo meal, and it was absolutely delicious. A few people were scared of the spices and didn’t eat much, but they were missing out. It wasn’t too hot (as in spicy) and the Rendang was the best I’ve ever had. The pickled mango was amazing, too.
The dessert had banana in it – you know, the Devil’s food – but just as I gave mine to someone else and prepared myself to sit back and watch everyone else eat dessert, a plate of watermelon was put in front of me. Sarah had remembered that I hate bananas.

Oh! For anyone wondering about how good TripADeal is if you get sick, yesterday one of the men in the group was feeling very unwell. When we were having drinks in the rooftop bar, his wife came and joined us.

ā€œ You can’t fault the treatment from TripADeal,ā€ she said. ā€œThey paid for the taxi to and from the medical centre, and the doctor’s visit only cost $60 for the consultation and drugs.ā€

Not that I ever intend to get sick when I’m on holidays, but that’s good to know.

Dad joke of the day:u

Borneo, Day 6: a piece of history I didn’t really know.

This mountain is growing at a rate of 5mm per year. We watched it grow while we ate breakfast,

Sarah is a bit of a Sandakan Death March buff. She’s read many books about it and when she was training for this job, she went on a hike along part of the trail. This, of course, makes her commentary very interesting.

We made an unscheduled stop to see Ranau Camp number 1, which is where the Australian soldiers stopped along the way during the death marches after leaving Sandakan. This wasn’t the end of the actual march, though for many men , it was for them. The actual trail still had 13kms to go.

Those poor men. Even today, the undergrowth is so thick.

I’m writing thisart of the post after leaving the memorial.

It was very moving. The gallery had helmets, revolvers, etc, but there were also some personal items found after the war. There was a ring. As the guy lost weight, he wrapped paper around his finger underneath the ring to keep it on his finger. It must have been important to him.

The most poignant thing of all was a voice recording by the survivors.

ā€œOnce, we were lucky enough to kill a dog. A Jap soldier found us and made us bury the dog so we couldn’t eat him. Later that night, we snuck back and dug him up.

A few days later, we saw dogs eating the bodies of dead soldiers. Well, that was it. No more eating dog for us.ā€

ā€œWe were wading through mud, waist deep in mud, carrying the rice bags. We knew that if we fell and broke a leg, the Japs would shoot us straight away.ā€

ā€œAt first the camp was overcrowded, but soon enough, men started dying. You’d wake up in the morning and look to one side to see if the man beside you had died in the night. If he had, that meant more room for you. You’d see if he owned anything that’d be of use to you, and then you’d look on the other side.ā€

ā€œYou could feel yourself dying. When you woke up in the morning, you’d be surprised.ā€

This memorial is placed where Gunner Albert Cleary was tied to a tree for 8 days after escaping for a second time. His mate was shot straight away, but he was kept tied to the tree, enduring starvation and up to 30 beatings a day. When it was obvious that he was close to death, the Japanese allowed his friends to cut him down, wash him and tend to him. He gave them one last smile and died in their arms.

Here he is, with his friend who had the more merciful death.

I took photos of a 12 page letter that a guy wrote to his p

family after the liberation of Changi in 1944. If anyone is interested in reading it, shoot me a comment and I’ll send it to you.

This was a profoundly moving experience. We were never taught about this when I was at school. To think that we never knew about the worst atrocity to be committed against our own countrymen is astonishing.

Then we moved on to – guess what? Another war memorial.
We were all starting to wish we were back in the jungle.


The first thing we saw was a video of Jana Wendy – remember her? – hosting a do o about 6 soldiers retracing the steps of the soldiers on the Sandakan death marches. Even though they were all fit and well fed, with a good nights sleep every night, they all found it gruelling, with one having to be medivacced out to be put on a drip for a while.

I have to say, I was disappointed with this place. Its selling point is that it has 4 gardens: Australian, British, Borneo and Contemplation. The last one was where all of the names of the 2,400 soldiers who died are written. The last one was the best one. All of the other ones were pretty poor.

Considering the climate, these gardens should be lush. Instead, the Australian garden was full of hydrangeas in pots, the British had roses in pots, while the Borneo one wasn’t much better.

I walked quickly through and went to the contemplation garden.

This garden profoundly affected me.

At first it was the sheer number of names on the wall. There were 29 boards in all, with nearly 100 names on each. The sheer volume was too much to take in.

Then Peta walked by and pointed out that brothers were mentioned as well. She was right. There were many brothers. A couple of pairs of twins. Their poor mothers.

Then I started to take note of the ages. I was expecting 18, 19, 20, but what I was seeing were ages more in line with my boys’ ages. I started picturing them in a situation like this and trying to imagine how they would cope. It made me a bit teary.

Not as bad as being in the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam, when my chin got the wobbles, but I had to blink very hard to stop the tears. )

We then wandered over to the fruit and vegetable market. It was SO CLEAN, especially after the markets in Vietnam and Zanzibar.

Kinabalu National Park Botanical Garden.

This was a definite change of pace. We ambled around the paths of the Gardens, while Sarah pointed out various plants and birds to us.

Was I bored? Not quite, but if it had gone on for too much longer I might have been. Still, other people in the group were in their element, so that was nice to see.

Pink Maiden. The fruit tastes like blueberries.

Naked Tree. It regularly sheds its bark to stop the moss from growing on it.

You can drink water from this vine if you cut it. ā€œBut if the liquid is cloudy, don’t drink. It’ll make you sick.ā€ Good to know.

Jewel orchid. Very popular with the Japanese. They come here to study it.

Pitcher plants. Famously carnivorous. They have 13 species in this garden. It attracts insects by its sweet nectar.

In Sumatra, orangutans have been observed drinking water from the pitcher plant, but so far in Borneo, this behaviour hasn’t been seen.

Laughing Orchid. It’s like a little boy sticking out his tongue.

Kerosene Tree. The inside of the fruit can be used to start a fire.

Wild begonia.

Lego orchid.

Corkscrew vine. I liked this one, so sculptural.

We saw quite a few orchids, but I’m clearly hopeless at taking pictures of them.

Then we wandered around a market full of bags, sarongs and other tatt. I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t bought a Christmas tree ornament from Borneo, so here it is:

A proboscis monkey keychain. Perfect!

When we got back to the hotel, I met up with the people I was marooned with on the boat… did I mention that for a while there, they were calling me ā€˜lunch’? šŸ˜‚ … and we went up to the rooftop bar. It was happy hour, and for once, we found reasonably priced wine in Asia.
I ended up having 3 glasses of Cab Sav and a couple of muesli bars back in my room for dinner. It was a fun night, though.

Dad joke of the day:

Borneo, Day 5: A fish spa.

Head hunting. Because today was mainly a long bus ride.

Muru tribe were the most murderous.

A prospective bridegroom must present a head to the bride’s father. No head, no wedding.

The Muru used blowpipes. It paralyses you, then they chop off your head with a machete. 

Headhunting was stopped in the 1950s. Sarah’s own tribe used to headhunt, because they wanted their loved ones to have company in the afterlife.

She recommended not going into the deep jungle, though…

Japanese occupation was from 1941 – 1945.

September 1944, the allied forces controlled the air

The Japanese wanted to use the jungle trails, so they asked the locals for help. The locals made the trails as difficult as possible, not realising that the Australian and British soldiers would bear the brunt.

Each soldier was expected to carry 20 kgs. 

The locals purposely kept the trail away from their villages, so they asked Japanese wouldn’t enslave their young men and rape their women. Fair enough, too.

The lodge we were staying in had these stuffed tigers in the dining room. I was puzzled by this, as tigers aren’t from Borneo. It turns out that the wait staff use them to frighten off the monkeys. We saw it at breakfast today. Three monkeys tried to sneak in, but they were sent packing by a waiter waving a tiger around.

Just before we reached the Tea Plantation, where we stayed the night, we stopped off at the fish spa. I was looking forward to this, around 16 years ago, I plunged my feet into a fish spa tank at the Singapore Zoo, when David 32, (then David15), and I were there on holiday. My feet have never looked better.

This time I had to wade into a rocky river.

I have to say, it was easier to sit and put your feet into a tank. 

The Sabah tea plantation was established in 1973. Naturally they grow normal tea, but they have herbal teas as well. Pandan tea is the big seller here.

This will be the third tea plantation I’ve been to in 4 months!

The travel bag that I bought last year in the Outback got ripped on the boat, so today at the fish spa I bought a new one. It’s early days, but I think I’m going to like it.

Dad joke of the day:

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