Powerful Owl in Sydney

This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 25-year-old bookmark and can proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).

Today’s travel notes

The TC went wandering in the woods yesterday. The first sign of trouble was the ruckus made by the Currawongs. If you hear them kicking up a fuss, there’s sure to be something interesting happening. The TC followed the noise and saw a big, shadowy shape high up in a gum tree. The Currawongs and Magpies were dive-bombing it. That usually means that the birds have found a possum out and about in the day time, and are having fun tormenting the poor disoriented creature

The TC pulled out her camera and zoomed in as far as she could. Check the photos to see what the lens revealed.

The book I’m in

Fourth Day, by Zoë Sharp. A powerful action thriller with a touch of fierce beauty.

The photos

My apologies for disappointing all my fans. There’s no photo of me today. I stayed safely deep in a book, as all wise worms do when a Powerful Owl is in town.

Here’s what the TC first saw. Can you spot the bird? It’s well camouflaged:

The bright glare of a Powerful Owl:

In the video you can hear the Currawongs calling. The owl raises its head to look around, then goes quietly back to sleep. It’s holding the remains of its prey, most likely a possum:

The owl takes a careful look at the TC:

Please excuse the jumpy shots. It was a very steep angle and the lens was just about at maximum zoom. And of course the TC, bless her cotton booties, was somewhat excited about the whole experience.

That’s all for today dudes.

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 25-year-old bookmark and can proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

Peg, the TC and I have all been in Darwin, in Australia’s “Top End”, for the past week. The TC, bless her cotton socks, booked herself on a Spectacular Jumping Crocodile Cruise. As is her wont, she took me along. I consented to pose in front of the bus for the obligatory snapshot, then retreated to the safety of my book nestled deep in the TC’s bag. Peg was nowhere to be seen. She’s a very together type of gal and knows when to keep herself out of harm’s way.

My impressions? The Northern Territory’s salties are horrifyingly beautiful.

Travel tip

Believe it when they tell you not to put your arm out over the side of the boat.

The book I’m in

Past Caring, by Robert Goddard. Definitely a “the thot plickens” type of book. This worm recommends it whole-heartedly.

The photos

Me and the only type of jumping croc that I allow anywhere near me:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

We were lucky enough to have the one and only Rod as our bus driver and guide. He knows a great deal about the bush, the swamps and the history of Darwin. I was sorry when the tour ended, because he’d only been able to relate a fraction of the stories he knows of Darwin and surrounds. The photo below shows us driving over the dyke at Fogg Dam. Rod told us all about the doomed Humpty Doo rice project, of which Fogg Dam is part. People built the dyke to control the water in the Adelaide River wetlands, so that they could grow rice. Alas, after the first big wet season most of the rice ended up in the Timor Sea. Did you notice the crocodile toys on the dashboard? We were very soon to see the real thing!

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

A pretty little Jacana bird wanders through an idyll soon to be shattered:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

A late-blooming Lotus lily lures and lulls the unwary:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

But wait. Take a closer look at those low-lying dark humps at the middle right:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

Oh yes, the TC has spotted her first crocodile.

Next stop, the reception room for the Spectacular Jumping Crocodiles Cruise:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

Then out onto a reassuringly solid-looking boat:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

Gotcha! We walked straight on through that boat and onto the much more intimate craft that would ferry us around the croc-infested banks of the Adelaide River:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

The TC, of course, was delighted. So much more real. So much more opportunity to get close to the crocs. Better photographs. Yada yada yada.

Sure enough, we were but a couple of metres off the mooring point when this charmer hove into view:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

That was when yours truly, the Travelling Worm, huddled deeper into my book and did my utmost not to attract the TC’s attention. It’s at times like this that she’s apt to whip me out and parade me in front of whatever’s going on, to snap that killer photograph. (Aah, bad choice of words on two counts, worm!)

From this point on it’s all go:

For the faint of heart, here’s a still of the same crocodile:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

For the tender of heart, here are some baby crocodiles. They’re hatchlings, about 6 inches long:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

Aah, so cute! Beware, mum is not far away:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

Isn’t she gorgeous? Here’s the video:

So, if you ever see a footprint like this:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

Then look out for a poser like this:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

Now I’m back home in the arms of my loved ones. Drool has had his nose put out of joint by my tale of creatures more prehistoric even than he. Peg is, as so often, my anchor:

Jumping crocodiles near Darwin

That’s all for today dudes.

The alleyways of Melbourne

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

Me and the TC are back in Sydney after a few days in Melbourne. This worm is feeling good. A bit flat around the edges, mark you (uh, no, Mark is me not you) but mostly good.

My impressions? In Melbourne, it all happens in the alleyways.

Black is still, or again, in in Melbourne. Goth is too. And dark magic. Dark chocolate. Just the TC’s sort of town.

While in Melbourne, I was lucky enough to bump into Albert Stone. The TC waved me right under his nose. Albert does not move fast, but he does it with plenty of style. The inevitable pictures are below.

I met Chloe too.

Travel tip

Live in the moment. Or in the book about it.

That thought came to my mind while I was browsing through Albert’s web site. He’s one awesome dude.

Recommended restaurant

Any self-respecting chocolate lover must drop in at Koko Black, for Belgian chocolate indulgence.

Recommended accommodation

The Vibe Savoy hotel. Lots of mirrors, Art Deco plus a bit on the side, friendly service, excellent quality. The food is very tasty. But this worm has to warn that I spent some time in the TC’s bag next to her purse and noticed said purse grow considerably leaner. The Vibe Savoy is not cheap.

The book I’m in

Saturn’s Children, by Charles Stross.

The book tells the adventures of Freya Nakamachi-47. Like me and Albert, she is a remarkable creature. She is a humanoid (alas poor thing) robot, one of a series designed to be the perfect companion (er, concubine) for real humans. Unfortunately for Freya, humankind died out just a few years before she came into being. So she’s never met a real man. Not yet…

This worm recommends the book without reservation. It’s clever and funny (like me), fast (unlike Albert) and interesting (like me and Albert both). Luckily for this worm, the TC loves a good SF.

The photos

Me and Chloe:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Chloe resides behind a pane of glass (hence the reflections on the photograph) in the Young & Jackson Hotel, just next to Melbourne’s Flinders Street Station. Here’s another picture of her, sans reflections and regrettably sans moi too:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Young Chloe was painted in 1875 by a Frenchman called Jules Lefebvre. She is well loved by Melburnians, especially by beer lovers, and has pride of place in the bar on the first floor of Y&J’s. This is Chloe’s bar:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Here’s the Flinders Street Station as seen from Chloe’s window:

The alleyways of Melbourne

There are tales galore about the girl who modelled for the Chloe painting. Sadly, they have her committing suicide at the tender age of 21. But Chloe lives on. This worm heard that a painting of Chloe’s sister hangs in a Melbourne museum somewhere too, but that the National Trust and Heritage of Victoria has declared that Chloe herself will stay at Y&J’s.

The alleyways of Melbourne

Albert Stone, now there’s a man who knows how to live in the moment, how to make the moment last, and how to do it with style. To walk past him is impossible. To linger is essential. Here’s a picture of Albert, taken just as he notices yours truly thrust inelegantly into his space

Me and Albert:

The alleyways of Melbourne

He has an inexhaustible set of props that somehow just appear in his hand, even though he’s moving at the speed of a sluggish slug. Albert gave this worm a red carnation. I was most touched. Thank you dude:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Me and Albert, caught in the moment:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Alleyways rule in Melbourne:

The alleyways of Melbourne

This worm recommends a visit to one of the cafes in the Central Places alleyway, if only for the grimy Dickensian atmosphere:

The alleyways of Melbourne

The trams are tremendous. Here’s one in front of the GPO in Elizabeth Street:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Here’s another tram with a city backdrop:

The alleyways of Melbourne

If you prefer wide open spaces rather than alleyways, there’s plenty for you in Melbourne too. We came across a Tamil demonstration at Federation Square:

The alleyways of Melbourne

More of Federation Square:

The alleyways of Melbourne

The Yarra River runs through the city, with eating places and recreation spots on its banks:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Autumn colours:

The alleyways of Melbourne

For more colours, here’s a sunset view from the Vibe Savoy hotel, looking out over the Southern Cross Station roof towards the Melbourne Docklands:

The alleyways of Melbourne

Did anyone miss Peg?

That’s all for today dudes.

Shelly Beach in Manly

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

There’s a heat wave on in Sydney, Australia. If you like the heat, this is where you should be. Weather reports say we’re the hottest place on the planet this weekend.

This is when all savvy Sidney-siders hit the beaches. Shelly Beach is one of the best. It’s all happening: scuba-diving, snorkelling, swimming, paddling, stand-up and sit-down canoeing, splashing or just plain lying around.

Shelly Beach is part of the Cabbage Tree Bay reserve, at the quiet end of Manly Beach. Unlike the rest of the Sydney ocean coast, Shelly Beach points north rather than east. It’s tucked away in a little fold of the coast and has a character all its own.

Travel tip

Stay cool.

The book I’m in

the witches of chiswick, by Robert Rankin.

Ha ha, very funny, especially if you’re an erudite worm like me.

The photos

Introducing Naught, my stunt worm:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Actually, Naught is a copy of me, clad in laminate so that I don’t have to risk the wrinkling, colour-leeching and sagging that inevitably result from an extended dunking.

Naught is not bad at bobbing about. Here’s an underwater scene at Shelly Beach. The bobbing bookmark makes a less-than-convincing entrance near the end of the video:

They say imitation is the best form of flattery. Not that this worm is in need of flattery. I’m quite aware of my own worth. I’ve named my stunt worm “Naught”, in honour of another underwater wonder, the Nautilus. And also because “naught” means “nothing”, and although Naught may look like me, he isn’t me and therefore he’s really nothing at all. (I just needed to make that absolutely clear.)

We didn’t find Nemo, nor even Captain Nemo, but Naught is a good alternative. And he seems to have found a mermaid:

Shelly Beach in Manly

There are lots of different fish in the water too. The TC managed to catch one or two in her camera lense. Here’s one:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Here’s another, pretty if you like that sort of thing:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Here are a few silver and striped specimens, perhaps in search of Nemo themselves:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Next up is a blue groper. There are few fish that have caught my interest, but this one does have a good quirk or two. A groper sees a sex change as part of the normal scheme of things. Rumour has it that all gropers start out as girls. Then, when the whim takes them, they turn into boys at the flip of a fin. Boys are blue, girls are greeny-yellow. They can live as long at 35 years, so they have plenty of time to choose their favourite colour. They can grow to about 60cm long. This one is blue so I guess it’s a boy. He’s followed by a flotilla of fans:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Here’s an “artistic” photo of a shoal of tiny little fish that swam round and round the TC, moving too fast to get a good picture:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Above water, Shelly Beach is all go too. Here’s a view from the west side of the beach, looking north towards Manly:

Shelly Beach in Manly

It’s a family beach, with a somewhat disquieting atmosphere of stormy prettiness. Kookaburras and cockatoos wheel above, gropers and other finned things swoop below. Sandwiched between is a layer of swimmers. And Naught, the bobbing bookmark. Any undercurrents are, on the whole, on their best behaviour. The overall effect is intriguing rather than menacing. Most days, anyway.

Here you’re on the west side of the beach looking east:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Now you’re in the middle of the beach, looking north towards Manly:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Here you’re standing on the rocks at the east side of Shelly Beach, looking west across the beach:

Shelly Beach in Manly

This photo is taken from the rocks on Shelly Beach, looking north towards Manly:

Shelly Beach in Manly

The TC made a short video to show it all happening at Shelly Beach. It reminds me of a page from a beginner’s language course, with people doing all sorts of things, contented smiles on their faces and useful little bubbles with the French/German/whatever words describing their activities. But luckily for you, there are no speech bubbles on this video.

As the camera pans past the rocks on the west end of the beach, you will see the well-known Bower surf break. It’s popular among Manly surfers, because it’s one of the last breaks to close out in big surf and offers the cleanest right handers in Sydney. That’s what they say. Take a look:

Meanwhile back home, it’s very very warm. Sydney is treating us to a heat wave. The tree ferns are suffering:

Shelly Beach in Manly

Poor old Drool really wanted to go to the beach too. I told him he’d sink like a stone. Or at least like a faux stone. Drool and Naught have one thing in common — there’s not much real about Drool either:

Shelly Beach in Manly

That’s all for today dudes.

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

Me and the TC have been on Fraser Island for a week, just off the coast of Queensland in Australia. Fraser Island is pretty special, because it’s composed almost entirely of sand. It is 125 km long and 15 km wide, making it the largest sand island in the world.

I’ve written a few blog posts about the island already, describing the island itself, the sand, the swimming, the 4wd adventures and the dangers. Now I’ll show you the creatures I met there.

Travel tip

Don’t hug a dingo.

The book I’m in

Lucifer’s Shadow, by David Hewson.

Intrigue, music and romance in Venice. A clever plot, set simultaneously in the 18th century and the present day. This worm gives the book a mark of approval. High praise indeed from someone of my discerning nature.

The photos

Me and a crab on Seventy-Five Mile Beach:

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

The TC and I were out for one of her habitual early-morning strolls, when we saw this dingo. She was trotting along the beach, minding her own business, as was the TC. Me, I was still recovering from a recent close encounter with the island’s wild life, as pictured above, so I chose to stay in my book in the TC’s bag. The TC and the dingo both stopped and looked at each other, then they both veered off to the left and right and continued more or less in their chosen directions:

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

This eagle cruised over us on the same early morning stroll:

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

Later, we saw more eagles on a couple of occasions. Here is a short video of two taking off from the beach just in front of our vehicle:

This suave dude has a style all of his own. He’s a monitor lizard, who came to investigate us in the Lake McKenzie car park:

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

Wanggoolba Creek is in perpetual rainforest twilight. This little kingfisher seemed to glow in the dark:

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

A truly awesome giant turtle emerged from the surf on Seventy-Five Mile Beach as we were passing:

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

Here it is again, with some people in the shot to give some idea of the turtle’s size:

Dingoes, turtles and other creatures on Fraser Island

We stood well back and watched the turtle as it hauled itself over the sand. It was obvious that this was hard work for the creature. We think it was coming in to lay its eggs in the dry sand at the top of the beach. Alas, a few other people arrived after the above shots were taken, and went too close. So the turtle turned round. People formed a circle round it, so it panicked and started going round and round. The TC had to put on her “I’m a Greenie” hat and tell people to leave a clear path so that the turtle could go back into the sea.

Here’s a video of the turtle, taken before it turned around:

Want to know more about Fraser Island? Try my YouTube playlist, or my other blog posts about the island.

That’s all for today dudes.

Swimming on Fraser Island

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

Me and the TC have been on Fraser Island for a week. I’ve written one or two blog posts about the island. Actually, I’ve written quite a few. The TC has the nerve to call me garrulous. She can talk. I’m sure you’ll want to read about the lakes, creeks and pools on Fraser Island.

Is it safe to swim? Me, I’m no cardboard cutout but I’ll admit that I’m not constitutionally suited to getting wet. The TC, on the other hand, dips herself into every bit of water that’s on offer. She seems to have survived well enough.

Travel tip

Put sunscreen on the tops of your feet too.

The book I’m in

Cell, by Stephen King.

Not as good as his earlier books, better than his later books. A fitting read for Fraser Island, where mobile phone coverage is patchy to non-existent.

The photos

Me at Lake Wabby:

Swimming on Fraser Island

Lake Wabby — it’s like swimming in warm green tea. Cuddle up to the big black whiskery catfish. As is to be expected on Fraser Island, there’s a lot of sand. In fact, the sand dune is slowly and inexorably engulfing the lake. It’s weird approaching the lake through the surrounding forest and seeing the level of the sand gradually rising until it’s half way up the tree trunks.

Swimming on Fraser Island

Lake McKenzie — toothpaste-blue and -white:

Swimming on Fraser Island

Lake McKenzie is one of the island’s famous perched lakes. That means that it perches above the level of the water table. In contrast, most lakes happen when the land dips below the level of the water table. Fraser Island’s perched lakes are even more special, because they’re perched on sand:

Swimming on Fraser Island

Remember to put sunscreen on the tops of your feet. The TC, bless her soul, went walking in open sandals. Here are the resulting red patches, seen through the crystal-clear water of Lake McKenzie. Oh, she’d want me to assure you that her toes look crooked only because of the water distortion:

Swimming on Fraser Island

Champagne pools — a bit tame, not living up to the expectations conjured by their name. These are rock sea pools at the northern end of island, beyond Indian Head. There was a bit of froth when the sea rolled over the rocks into the pools. This must be where the name “Champagne Pools” comes from. But mostly the water was calm and clear. There was a lot of yucky red stuff floating in it: tiny little red balls which other people thought might be “caviar”. The TC insisted on swimming anyway, and remarked loudly on the beautiful shoals of stripy fish that she found. But I noticed that even she didn’t stay in the water for very long.

Swimming on Fraser Island

Eli Creek — dreamy green. Float down the creek with the current. Trees and plants close in around you and the current nudges you under trees and over rocks. Flowers float past you:

Swimming on Fraser Island

There are many more lakes on the island, but the TC did not have time to see them.

Want to know more about Fraser Island? Try my YouTube playlist, or my other blog posts about the island.

That’s all for today dudes.

Fraser Island – it’s all about sand

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

Me and the TC have been on Fraser Island for a week. You may have already seen my three earlier posts: Fraser Island – prehistoric beauty, Getting about on Fraser Island and Deadly pine cones and other dangers.

But I know you’re on tenterhooks waiting to hear about the sand. That’s what it’s all about, after all. Fraser Island is part of the “Great Sandy Region”, and the island itself is made almost entirely of sand. It is the largest sand island in the world. Its dune systems are 30,000 years old, which makes them among the oldest in the world. The brochures say there are 72 different colours of sand on the island.

This worm sat on most of them. Peg was there too, helping to keep me grounded when I was in danger of getting carried away by the sheer beauty of the scenery and, ah-hem, the wind.

Travel tip

People build sand castles on the beach. This makes for an interesting driving experience.

The book I’m in

Et si c’était vrai…, by Marc Levy.

The photos

Me and Peg and some sand on Fraser Island:

Fraser Island - it's all about sand

Even the dark stuff that looks like rock is actually sculpted sand:

Me examining a crab hole in the sand:

Fraser Island - it's all about sand

Patterns made by crabs in the sand:

A creek opening onto the beach:

Fraser Island - it's all about sand

The Pinnacles, on Seventy-Five Mile Beach:

Fraser Island - it's all about sand

The Red Canyon, also on Seventy-Five Mile Beach:

Fraser Island - it's all about sand

One of the peaks in the Red Canyon:

Fraser Island - it's all about sand

Sand, footprints and shadow:

Want to know more about Fraser Island? Try my YouTube playlist. Stay tuned to this blog for more about the island’s lakes and creeks and creatures.

That’s all for today dudes.

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

Me and the TC have been on Fraser Island for a week. Faithful followers of my blog will have already read my two earlier posts: Fraser Island – prehistoric beauty and Getting about on Fraser Island.

But what about the dangers of travelling to a prehistoric, unwired and 4×4-infested island made entirely of sand?

My impressions? Fraser Island is a softy, provided that you go prepared.

We were warned about snakes and sharks —- didn’t see any. We expected big spiders — saw only one, and dead at that. We did encounter dingoes, a dubious jellyfish, bugs that bite, and ninja pine cones.

Curiouser and curiouser

We also encountered confused people in car parks. Have you ever seen any of the episodes of Lost? If you have, alas poor you, but you’d recognise the feeling of tropical muggy not-quite-reality that pervades the island. Luckily, serendipity reigns there too, so it all works out in the end.

So you should expect strangers making weird requests. Here are some of the things people asked us:

• In the car park at Lake McKenzie, in the middle of the forest in the middle of the island in the middle of nowhere: “Do you have a recharger I can borrow?” (She didn’t say what type of recharger she wanted, or where she would plug it in, or how long we would need to wait until whatever it was was recharged. The TC shook her head regretfully and backed away.)
• On the beach at Eli Creek: “Can we borrow your car keys to start our car? We’ve lost our keys.” (Without much hope of success, the TC lent them the keys from our Land Rover Defender to start their Toyota. Guess what – it worked. What’s more, they then removed the keys and gave them back to the TC, and their Toyota kept on going. Everything keeps going right… Oops, nearly got trapped in a jingle there.)
• In the car park at Lake McKenzie: “Can we have a lift to Kingfisher Bay?” The TC said that alas, we were going to Eurong, which is in exactly the opposite direction and on the east coast rather than the west coast. “OK. We go to Eurong.” (They were Swiss backpackers and had walked 40km the preceding day and night. They wound up at Central Station, expecting food and comfort, and found just a logging museum. So we took them to Eurong. They sat in the back of the Land Rover, everyone had a fun journey misunderstanding each other’s English, and they seemed quite happy to arrive in Eurong rather than Kingfisher Bay.)

Travel tip

Bug repellent is a wonderful thing. Roll-on works best.

The book I’m in

Et si c’était vrai…, by Marc Levy.

The photos

Me, Peg, a book and some sand (yes, it’s all sand) on Fraser Island:

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

The TC and this dingo met up on Seventy-Five Mile Beach early one morning. They eyed each other and kept their distance as each went their own way. Typically, the TC is over the moon about this experience of wild life in the wild:

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

The TC had to hop around a bit on the beach near Indian Head, to avoid standing on this jelly fish. Is it the deadly Irukandji jellyfish? Who knows. It was about the right size:

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

The tide is a hazard for the unwary. The only feasible way to travel up and down the length of the island is on Seventy-Five Mile Beach. But parts of the beach are impassable for two hours either side of high tide. The TC had booked a ferry for 9 a.m. on the day of our departure, not realising that high tide was at 7:15 a.m. that day. Oops. So we were up at 4 a.m. and driving by 4:30.

Oh and, btw and fyi, you can’t drive in the dark either, for fear of running over sleeping campers or diving off a sand dune. It’s light at 4:30 a.m. I didn’t want ever to know that.

By 5 a.m. the TC knew we’d make it off the beach in time, so she stopped the car to take this photo. :

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

Beware the tiny biting insects. They’re so small you hardly see them. They can sting you through your clothing, and the mark they leave is many times the size of the biter.

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

Most deadly of all , beware the ninja pine cones:

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

All good island stories have a ninja or two. While we were there, I heard four or five of the cones hit the ground with a resounding THUD. Don’t walk under a kauri pine, or a falling pine cone might render you a modern-day Rip Van Winkle. See the cones littering the ground:

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

Here’s the culprit, fearsome indeed:

Deadly pine cones and other dangers on Fraser Island

You have been warned!

Want to know more about Fraser Island? Try my YouTube playlist. Stay tuned to this blog for more about the island’s lakes and creeks and creatures. And don’t forget, it’s all about the sand.

That’s all for today dudes.

Red-flowered tree in Sydney

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt. Keep an eye out for the witty but subtle use of puns.

Today’s travel notes

Me, Peg and Hand went for a bit of a stroll today. You’ll remember Hand. We met in Surfer’s Paradise, and he has been one of the Travelling Companion’s companions ever since. I wrote about it here.

Getting back to our stroll. Along the way, we stopped to hang out with Blue. And now I’d like to enlist your help.

Blue is a tall, wide-spreading tree. There are a number like him, in and around Sydney. At this time of year he becomes encrusted with showy red flowers. That’s why I call him “Blue” — because of the red flowers. (Australians have an obscurely endearing habit of calling people with red hair “Blue”. I think it’s their attempt for world recognition in the eccentricity category. Or something.)

How can you help? By telling me what sort of tree Blue is. I’ve searched diligently through the TC’s books but have not been able to pin down Blue’s family. Please take a look at the pictures below.

Traveller’s tip

Trees don’t travel much, but they are good company.

The book I’m in

Poltergeist, by Kat Richardson.

The photos

Me and Peg out on a limb with Blue:

Me and Peg out on a limb with Blue

Hand seeks out the darker corners where fleshy greyish-pink weirdos congregate. As you might have gathered, I’m not much of a botanist and don’t know what these plants are called either:

Hand skulking around in the undergrowth

Zooming out to show a bit more of Blue’s red floral showiness. This outburst happens in late July and early August.

Can you identify this red-flowered tree?

The whole tree:

Can you identify this red-flowered tree?

Hand got a bit out of hand, so I had to tether him at the base of Blue’s trunk. He felt quite at home, because some equally unsalubrious characters had been there before us.

Hand lurking amongst the litter

Sydney winter flora seen from down under

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

I’ve been spending some time with flora and Peg recently. You’ll notice me, Peg and flora in the photographs below.

Have you ever been to Cape Town in South Africa? There’s some similarity between the Sydney vegetation and the Cape fynbos. Both specialise in low-key, low-down beauty. It can be hard to find, especially if you’re not a worm. But once you’ve moved past the drabness and started looking at the detail, there are some fairly pretty things to see.

This blog post is about Sydney. I’ll dig up some of the TC’s photographs of the Cape fynbos and write about it soon too. I promise. I know you’ll be eagerly awaiting my next post.

A worm’s eye view is also interesting from another perspective. Often, I get to see the bits that the plants are least proud of.

Traveller’s tip

Don’t ever let yourself be photographed from below. It’s a very unflattering angle.

The book I’m in

Dead Famous, by Ben Elton.

A tip for my fans: Look out for my appearance on the next hip, bigged-up and mad-for-it reality TV show. I’ve had so many requests you’d hardly, like, believe and hey I’ll make my choice soon. One survivor, that’ll be me. I’m, like, dead sure of that.

The photos

Me and Peg hanging out under a rocky overhang with flora:

Sydney winter flora

♥ As a special treat for you the faithful reader, the rest of the photographs are taken from the bottom looking up. That’s my usual perspective on life. It’s what keeps me so humble. ♥

The least flattering end of a bee:

Sydney winter flora

Another bee derriere:

Sydney winter flora

The underside of Old Man Banksia:

Another banksia I do believe, but there’s the faint possibility that I may be wrong:

Sydney winter flora

Some cone clones:

Sydney winter flora

A spray of grass:

Sydney winter flora

It’s difficult to make a flower look bad, even from the bottom looking up:

Sydney winter flora

Another distressingly pretty flower seen from down under:

Sydney winter flora

And here’s the last bottoms-up flower:

Sydney winter flora

Oh dear…

Sydney winter flora seen from down under

That’s all for today dudes.