365 True Things: 229/Australia

Back in the mid-1990s, I went with my mother to Australia: to visit old friends in Red Hill, Vic., and then to take a wildflower tour in Western Australia. The tour was fabulous: there is so much wonderful botanical life in Australia generally, but WA in particular, 60 percent of whose wildflower species are found nowhere else in the world. We traveled by bus around the state, became friends with a few of our companions, and enjoyed the brilliant bouquets and carpets of springtime flowers.

Here are a few Western Australian flowers, some of which I'm sure we must have seen (not my photos):

Handsome wedge pea, Gompholobium venustum

Acorn banksia, Banksia prionotes

Kangaroo paw (Anigozanthos manglesii),
the state flower of Western Australia

Pink fairy orchid, Caladenia latifolia

I also very much liked all the many species of eucalypts, especially coming from California where we tend to think there's only one kind: blue gum (E. globulus). No, there are dozens and dozens of kinds, of all shapes and sizes. My favorites were jarrah (E. marginata), which produces a beautiful mahogany-like wood, and karri (E. diversicolor), the third tallest tree in the world. The flowers of eucalypts are also very varied in color, ranging from white to yellow to orange to red.

Karri forest

Eucalyptus caesia

Although we flew to Perth from Melbourne, we decided to take the Indian Pacific train back to Sydney: 4,352 km—65 hours, or three nights and four days—via Broken Hill, Adelaide, Cook, and Calgoorlie. I remember an awful lot of empty space, with kangaroos and emus dashing away from the thundering monster as fast as they could hop or run. The Nullarbor Plain—meaning No Trees—was aptly named.

A couple from the wildflower tour were taking the train as well, heading back to their home in Manly. We dined with them and enjoyed their company. I even remained in touch with them for a few years. I wish I remembered their names. Oh, look: an old address book just hanging out, and there they are in it: John and Agnes O'Grady. That was easy. They were a lovely pair, freshly retired and savoring life.

On the Nullarbor Plain

"Gold Service": not the most luxurious class,
but plenty comfortable.

It was an experience I wouldn't mind repeating—the whole thing, but especially the wildflowers. Maybe a return visit is in order?

And in parting, here's a photo that I did take on that trip, of my mother at Healesville Sanctuary in Victoria, a place that figures in my own mythology: on my third birthday, so the story goes, an emu tried its darnedest to steal the big red bow that was in my hair. It failed, and I cried. Emus are rather terrifying.