FOR more than a century, grand lighthouses dotted along Victoria's rugged coastline were the first sign of land for many immigrants to our shores.
Though many hundreds of lives were lost in shipwrecks, the lighthouses protected countless others.
With round-the-clock surveillance needed, three families would live in cottages built at the foot of the lighthouse, ensuring three shifts each day were covered.
But as technology developed, lighthouses became more mechanised and most were unstaffed by the 1990s.
Now, visitors can stay in many of the homes once occupied by lighthouse-keeping families. Many are hosting special events to celebrate International Lighthouse Weekend tomorrow and Sunday.
MORE > www.lighthouse.net.au
Cape Nelson, Portland
About 11km south of Portland, the white-painted bluestone lighthouse was built in 1884.
Visitors can get a sense of the era by staying in its two lightstation cottages, which opened this year after a two-year restoration.
Parks Victoria lessees Rob and Margaret Hunt fell in love with the lighthouse during their regular wanders along the Great South West Walk. Margaret says the original feel of the cottages was re-created with advice from a local historian.
Accommodation costs $180 a night for one bedroom and $250 a night for two bedrooms, and includes a full breakfast.
MORE > 5523 5100 or email lighthouseluxury@activ8.net.au
Cape Otway,
Apollo Bay
The Cape Otway Lightstation lays claim to being the oldest surviving lighthouse in mainland Australia, operating since 1848.
At the heart of the Great Ocean Walk in the Great Otway National Park, the lightstation precinct features a World War II radar bunker and telegraph station. It's a great vantage point for whale watching until October.
It is open daily and tours cost $16.50 for adults, $7.50 kids and family $41.50. Up to 16 people can stay at the Head Keeper's Cottage and the manager's house fits up to 14 people.
The B&B style option costs $195 a night. Multi-nights with large groups can start from $30 a person.
``The longer you stay and the more people the cheaper it gets,'' manager Paul Thompson says.
MORE > www.lightstation.com
Cape Schanck, Mornington Peninsula
Set in the Mornington Peninsula National Park, the Cape Schanck Lighthouse and its museum, which is in a former lightkeeper's cottage, are open to the public.
Built in 1859, it still has the original lighting mechanisms in place. The area is popular with families, golfers, walkers and lighthouse history enthusiasts. Tours and packages include helicopter rides to nearby wineries.
Beds are available in the two assistant keepers' cottages, which sleep up to nine people. There is also an inspector's cottage suitable for a couple. Rates are $150 a double at weekends, and $100 a double during the week.
MORE > www.parkweb.vic.gov.au
www.austpacinns.com.au
Continued next page
From previous page
Wilsons Promontory
Located at Tidal River, three lightkeepers' cottages provide dormitory-style accommodation for up to 27 people.
But a visit is not for the faint hearted. All bed linen (sleeping bags recommended) and food must be carried in on the 18km walk from Tidal River. And you have take your rubbish out with you.
Still, people book up to 12 months in advance for the experience.
It will set you back between $47 and $87 each a night, depending on the day of the week and which cottage you stay in.
MORE > www.parkweb.vic.gov.au
Point Hicks
Set in Croajingolong National Park, the lighthouse owes its name to Lieutenant Zachariah Hicks, who was sailing with Captain James Cook when they saw the area in 1770.
By 1890 the remote lighthouse settlement, complete with three houses for the keepers, was complete.
Tours are available free when you stay but visitors can join a tour Friday to Monday at 1pm. Adults $7 and family $20. Visitors can stay in the two assistant lightkeepers' cottages which each sleep up to eight. A bungalow is suited to a couple.
Take your own food -- the nearest shop is an hour by car at Cann River -- but you can rent linen.
Rates depend on the season, day of the week and accommodation choice. The cottages are around $330 a night and the bungalow $100.
MORE > www.pointhicks.com.au or www.gippslandlakesescapes.com.au
Gabo Island, Mallacoota
The distinctive pink granite Gabo Island Lighthouse stands on the border where Victoria meets NSW.
The island, which can only be reached by air or sea, is home to bird colonies such as little penguins.
Accommodation is available in one of the assistant keeper's cottages for two to seven nights. The cottage can sleep up to eight in three bedrooms. Rates vary by day of the week and season from $178.50-$227 a night.
MORE > www.parkweb.vic.gov.au
Lady Bay Upper and Lower lighthouses, Warrnambool
Still active, the lighthouses have been protecting the Warrnambool Harbour from roaring southern oceans for more than 150 years. Part of the Flagstaff Hill Maritime Village, there is an admission fee for the Lady Bay Upper lighthouse but the Lower Lighthouse is off limits.
Flagstaff Village manager Peter Abbott says the Lighthouse Lodge, built in 1911, opened to guests in March. Guests can book out the whole lodge, accommodating six people, from $355 a night.
The lighthouses are an easy stroll to the city centre. Admission to the village is $15.95 adults, $12.50 children and $39 family.
MORE > www.flagstaffhill.com
Split Point,
Airey's Inlet
At 34m high, the lighthouse was built after as many as 10 shipwrecks on the Surf Coast before 1890. It was originally called Eagles Nest Point but changed to Split Point in 1913.
Because it is a functioning lighthouse access is only via a tour, which operates daily. Adults are $12 children $7 and family $35.
The lighthouse was the setting for the kids' TV show Round the Twist and provides 360-degree views. It also offers school-holiday programs.
MORE > www.splitpointlighthouse.com.au
Point Lonsdale
The lighthouse celebrated its centenary in 2002 and is thought to be among the last manned lighthouses in Australia. You can visit the lighthouse on a pre-booked tour. Tours operate from mid morning to early afternoon and run for half an hour. But you have to be reasonably fit to tackle the steep stairs and must wear solid footwear. There are eight people a tour and children under five years and people with pacemakers are not allowed. Adults $6, kids $4.
MORE > www.maritimequeenscliffe.org.au
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Good Morning Vietnam
Claire Heaney
The young girl comes closer, spinning her hands and fingers around like a crazed spider trying to trap me in her web.
"I make you more beautiful" she promises.
My daughter, Hannah, 10, laughs nervously.
At first I am confused, then it finally dawns on me that the fine thread she is flicking around is her toolkit. She is a mobile beautician, practising the ancient art of hair removal by the threading technique.
Minutes earlier I am talked into ordering a red pair of boots from a local shoe shop.
Things happen in Vietnam when you are not looking.
Earlier, my nearly five-year-old has her foot run over by a motorcycle in what is possibly the quietest street in the whole of Vietnam.
Having survived hair-raising crossings of busy Hanoi streets, where you clasp hands tightly and step out with conviction that you will make it to the other side, we have a false sense of security.
In HoiAn, in central Vietnam, the road is closed and our travelling party of three families is wandering along when a motorbike speeds past.
I shouted to Lucy to be careful. She is startled and walks into its path.
She lets our an ear piercing scream and kind locals come running with containers of Tiger Balm. She’s fine but my nerves are shot.
Her plastic Crocs shoes are broken.
So, this is why we find ourselves in the Hoian Market looking for new shoes.
They do not have the right size. But, "Wait" the stall holders implore, they will come back with some that will fit.
It is then that I make the fatal mistake of looking too intently at a pair of custom made boots. Before I know it colour swatches are out and the tape measures is sizing up my sweaty calves.
Lucy's shoes arrive. She, her father and brother, Patrick, duly race off to hop into the hotel pool.
But Hannah and I don't escape so easily.
As we walk out the beautician buddy strikes, with her promise to thread every bit of facial hair she can see and then some. “Ouch” I say.
“No pain, no gain,” she says menacingly.
My resistance is futile. And it turns out to be one of the funnier moments of our Vietnam adventure.
We start our Gap Family Adventure in Hanoi where we hook up with three families and our guide, Lap Nguyen.
The reasons for signing up for the package tour vary. One family is a single parent with two children and other is made up of three children with their dad and stepmother. They are wanting some adventure without the hassle and headaches and this is exactly what we get.
The children generally match up age wise. My Lucy is the odd one out and over the holiday she becomes something of a spare fairy.
Having explored the wonders of Hanoi in planned and free time a much anticipated highlight is the overnight stay in Halong Bay, about three hours by bus.
The bus trip is long for those who, like my son, suffer from traffic sickness. We have not packed anything that resembles a tablet. Fortunately our fellow travellers are better prepared.
In the meantime, my husband is nursing the sick bag, waiting for the stop at a craft outlet to deposit it in the bin.
Halong Bay, once we get there, is magnificent. We hop on one of what seems like hundreds of junks and set sail.
The rooms are very comfortable and the kids are in seventh heaven with all sorts of vantage points from which to see. We make a stop at the limestones.
It is so serene. The stay involves incredibly sumptuous food and wonderful service. The kids are intrigued by the dragonfruit with its black spots.
"It’s very posh," observes Patrick.
As the night fades the more adventurous of the group start jumping into the water from the junk. One of the parents hops in to make sure they are safe. They are having a ball. Patrick is reluctant but I can see he will be very hard on himself should he not give it a try. After some time he takes the leap and then can’t get enough.
“Jumping into the water from the boat was one of the best things I have ever done,” he insists.
By night we are passed by party boats and floating markets.
The stay ends all too soon and we make our way to Hanoi to catch an overnight train to Hue (pronounced Way). We are amazed by the locals ability to fit just about anything precariously on the back of a motorbike. It becomes a competition as we spot toilets, goldfish in plastic bags, eggs, seat and assorted cargo.
The guide tells us that we are in the first class and the beds are hard because the train is new and they haven’t been worn in.
The ride is fun for the kids. Then we strike a landslide and find ourselves arriving late in Hue.
This is something we soon come to realise in Vietnam. Natural disasters can follow you and will alter your best laid travel plans.
Hue is another extraordinary place with its pagoda and temple. A highlight is a cyclo ride to the Citadel.
While dining at a restaurant we spot local children performing. Wondering whether we should tip them as street entertainers, we are told they are practising for the upcoming Moon Lantern Festival.
The next day we make our way to HoiAn which is particularly beautiful and also famous for its tailoring.
We see some temples and take up an offer to do an optional cooking class. This turns into one of the best memories.
With our instructor, Nam, we walk to the local HoiAn fressh food market which backs on to the wharf. My youngest, Lucy, calls this the stinky market and I fear one of the three children is going to be ill they are so repulsed by the fish guts all over the floor.
We are shown an amazing array of vegetables and then return to his restaurant, the Hong Phuc.
We set about creating our own feast. Mindful of the littlies chopping their fingers with knives, we cut and stuff a fish which is grilled in bananas leaves, making a tasty salsa and
preparing and frying yummy spring rolls. The kids are raving about the taste of lemongrass and sampling dishes in Vietnam that at home they would baulk at.
“This is one of the best things I have ever eaten,” says Hannah, eagerly eating the fish. I can’t disagree.
It is during our stay in HoiAn that we learn of Typhoon Ketsana, making its way from the Philippines. This proves inconvenient and delays our trip. There is only one thing to go. Shop. We spend the time sorting out some tailoring orders.
The results are on the whole great. With some thought on my partthey lts could have been even better.
The Typhoon means we find ourselves staying longer and we watch as local methodically go about their preparation with sandbags and shifting valuables out of harm’s way.
There is a lot of damage but villagers seem philophosical and just clean up. We are able then to fly out from Danang to bustling Ho Chi Minh City.
Immediately we see how much bigger and busier and modern it is than Hanoi. Our schedule has been affected by the typhoon but we are all philosophical and appreciative that we have not had the headache of sorting it out.
Instead of an overnight stay on the Mekong Delta, which we had been looking forward to, we do a day trip.
This proves another highlight. We visit Coconut Island where an army of workers knead, shape, cut and wrap coconut sweets at break-neck speed.
Then it is on to Turtle Island. The children have snakes, harmless we are assured, wrapped around their necks.
Back in Ho Chi Minh we venture into the huge market.
It has shelves of goods stacked skyhigh and narrow laneways. Not much fun if you are claustrophobic or a cute fair-haired little girl. The vendors take a liking to Lucy and their unrelenting attention freaks her out. We have to leave.
All too soon is it is time to go home. We are disappointed that we did not allow more time at the end of the trip to further explore Ho Chi Minh at our own leisure.
But our appetite has been whet for Vietnam. We have found the trip a fantastic, comfortable and safe way to travel with our children.
Although we have undertaken international travel with our children, they all regard it as the “best trip ever”.
And mum, who is usually burning the midnight oil trying to fine tune independent travel arrangements via the internet for weeks on end, couldn’t agree more.
Claire Heaney is a Melbourne writer.
The young girl comes closer, spinning her hands and fingers around like a crazed spider trying to trap me in her web.
"I make you more beautiful" she promises.
My daughter, Hannah, 10, laughs nervously.
At first I am confused, then it finally dawns on me that the fine thread she is flicking around is her toolkit. She is a mobile beautician, practising the ancient art of hair removal by the threading technique.
Minutes earlier I am talked into ordering a red pair of boots from a local shoe shop.
Things happen in Vietnam when you are not looking.
Earlier, my nearly five-year-old has her foot run over by a motorcycle in what is possibly the quietest street in the whole of Vietnam.
Having survived hair-raising crossings of busy Hanoi streets, where you clasp hands tightly and step out with conviction that you will make it to the other side, we have a false sense of security.
In HoiAn, in central Vietnam, the road is closed and our travelling party of three families is wandering along when a motorbike speeds past.
I shouted to Lucy to be careful. She is startled and walks into its path.
She lets our an ear piercing scream and kind locals come running with containers of Tiger Balm. She’s fine but my nerves are shot.
Her plastic Crocs shoes are broken.
So, this is why we find ourselves in the Hoian Market looking for new shoes.
They do not have the right size. But, "Wait" the stall holders implore, they will come back with some that will fit.
It is then that I make the fatal mistake of looking too intently at a pair of custom made boots. Before I know it colour swatches are out and the tape measures is sizing up my sweaty calves.
Lucy's shoes arrive. She, her father and brother, Patrick, duly race off to hop into the hotel pool.
But Hannah and I don't escape so easily.
As we walk out the beautician buddy strikes, with her promise to thread every bit of facial hair she can see and then some. “Ouch” I say.
“No pain, no gain,” she says menacingly.
My resistance is futile. And it turns out to be one of the funnier moments of our Vietnam adventure.
We start our Gap Family Adventure in Hanoi where we hook up with three families and our guide, Lap Nguyen.
The reasons for signing up for the package tour vary. One family is a single parent with two children and other is made up of three children with their dad and stepmother. They are wanting some adventure without the hassle and headaches and this is exactly what we get.
The children generally match up age wise. My Lucy is the odd one out and over the holiday she becomes something of a spare fairy.
Having explored the wonders of Hanoi in planned and free time a much anticipated highlight is the overnight stay in Halong Bay, about three hours by bus.
The bus trip is long for those who, like my son, suffer from traffic sickness. We have not packed anything that resembles a tablet. Fortunately our fellow travellers are better prepared.
In the meantime, my husband is nursing the sick bag, waiting for the stop at a craft outlet to deposit it in the bin.
Halong Bay, once we get there, is magnificent. We hop on one of what seems like hundreds of junks and set sail.
The rooms are very comfortable and the kids are in seventh heaven with all sorts of vantage points from which to see. We make a stop at the limestones.
It is so serene. The stay involves incredibly sumptuous food and wonderful service. The kids are intrigued by the dragonfruit with its black spots.
"It’s very posh," observes Patrick.
As the night fades the more adventurous of the group start jumping into the water from the junk. One of the parents hops in to make sure they are safe. They are having a ball. Patrick is reluctant but I can see he will be very hard on himself should he not give it a try. After some time he takes the leap and then can’t get enough.
“Jumping into the water from the boat was one of the best things I have ever done,” he insists.
By night we are passed by party boats and floating markets.
The stay ends all too soon and we make our way to Hanoi to catch an overnight train to Hue (pronounced Way). We are amazed by the locals ability to fit just about anything precariously on the back of a motorbike. It becomes a competition as we spot toilets, goldfish in plastic bags, eggs, seat and assorted cargo.
The guide tells us that we are in the first class and the beds are hard because the train is new and they haven’t been worn in.
The ride is fun for the kids. Then we strike a landslide and find ourselves arriving late in Hue.
This is something we soon come to realise in Vietnam. Natural disasters can follow you and will alter your best laid travel plans.
Hue is another extraordinary place with its pagoda and temple. A highlight is a cyclo ride to the Citadel.
While dining at a restaurant we spot local children performing. Wondering whether we should tip them as street entertainers, we are told they are practising for the upcoming Moon Lantern Festival.
The next day we make our way to HoiAn which is particularly beautiful and also famous for its tailoring.
We see some temples and take up an offer to do an optional cooking class. This turns into one of the best memories.
With our instructor, Nam, we walk to the local HoiAn fressh food market which backs on to the wharf. My youngest, Lucy, calls this the stinky market and I fear one of the three children is going to be ill they are so repulsed by the fish guts all over the floor.
We are shown an amazing array of vegetables and then return to his restaurant, the Hong Phuc.
We set about creating our own feast. Mindful of the littlies chopping their fingers with knives, we cut and stuff a fish which is grilled in bananas leaves, making a tasty salsa and
preparing and frying yummy spring rolls. The kids are raving about the taste of lemongrass and sampling dishes in Vietnam that at home they would baulk at.
“This is one of the best things I have ever eaten,” says Hannah, eagerly eating the fish. I can’t disagree.
It is during our stay in HoiAn that we learn of Typhoon Ketsana, making its way from the Philippines. This proves inconvenient and delays our trip. There is only one thing to go. Shop. We spend the time sorting out some tailoring orders.
The results are on the whole great. With some thought on my partthey lts could have been even better.
The Typhoon means we find ourselves staying longer and we watch as local methodically go about their preparation with sandbags and shifting valuables out of harm’s way.
There is a lot of damage but villagers seem philophosical and just clean up. We are able then to fly out from Danang to bustling Ho Chi Minh City.
Immediately we see how much bigger and busier and modern it is than Hanoi. Our schedule has been affected by the typhoon but we are all philosophical and appreciative that we have not had the headache of sorting it out.
Instead of an overnight stay on the Mekong Delta, which we had been looking forward to, we do a day trip.
This proves another highlight. We visit Coconut Island where an army of workers knead, shape, cut and wrap coconut sweets at break-neck speed.
Then it is on to Turtle Island. The children have snakes, harmless we are assured, wrapped around their necks.
Back in Ho Chi Minh we venture into the huge market.
It has shelves of goods stacked skyhigh and narrow laneways. Not much fun if you are claustrophobic or a cute fair-haired little girl. The vendors take a liking to Lucy and their unrelenting attention freaks her out. We have to leave.
All too soon is it is time to go home. We are disappointed that we did not allow more time at the end of the trip to further explore Ho Chi Minh at our own leisure.
But our appetite has been whet for Vietnam. We have found the trip a fantastic, comfortable and safe way to travel with our children.
Although we have undertaken international travel with our children, they all regard it as the “best trip ever”.
And mum, who is usually burning the midnight oil trying to fine tune independent travel arrangements via the internet for weeks on end, couldn’t agree more.
Claire Heaney is a Melbourne writer.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
The lowdown on billboards
THERE was a time when we loved the way our little ones could spot the big golden McDonald's ``M'' a mile off.
The whingeing when we usually ignored their pleas to stop grated, but it was sweet watching them start their literacy journey.
``There's a big M,'' they would say. Invariably, they would clobber each other over who spotted the Golden Arches first.
But that's nothing on the challenges we face when we pile into the car now the two eldest can read. There's danger at every turn.
Driving along the freeway, the eldest asked what the billboard declaring ``JOIN FOR FOX SAKE'' meant. ``Ummm, not sure,'' I muttered.
Then her brother, 8, and sister, 5, started repeating it, emphasising the FOX SAKE.
It's part of a campaign for women to join Fernwood gyms to become foxy.
I guess it was a change on the controversial Longer Lasting Sex campaign. Who would have thought on a trip from Werribee Zoo there would be so many of those signs? On one outing my daughter, now 10, and her mate were in hysterics. We were nearly home when I cracked on to the cause of their heightened amusement.
``Does that mean you smooch for a long time?'' my son asked.
A friend says if they are old enough to ask the question they are old enough to get an explanation.
But how do you explain sexual dysfunction - thrust at us in billboards and radio ads - to kids?
And what about the preppie who can't read but hears it all? Recently, as we stopped at a traffic light my son asked me what a ``sty'' was.
``It's where pigs live,'' I said. ``No, Mum, it's STI and it's something to do with sex,'' he countered.
In my day they were STDs but now, the billboard says, they are STIs.
Looking straight ahead, I told them it is what you get if you aren't careful about who you have sex with.
``Mum, stop, too much information we don't want to know about that,'' my daughter countered. ``We are getting sex education at the end of Grade 5.''
If that's not bad enough there are the billboards for Sexyland and the ``World's Thinnest Condom''.
I employed the distraction method when handling the question as to why people would want thin condoms, changing the topic to the bangers and mash we were having for tea.
So, news yesterday that the State Government has sanctioned the use of ``d..khead'' in a Don't be a D..khead advertising campaign to make people wear seatbelts and turn off their mobiles while they are driving made me shudder.
While we're told it's largely a viral campaign on the internet, there will be little escaping it.
Granted ``d..khead'' is often used as a term of endearment, but do we really need to normalise it in the same way as the word ``bloody''?
Between ``Don't be a bloody idiot'' road campaigns, ``Where the bloody hell are you?'' tourist campaigns and the use of ``bloody hell'' by Ron Weasley in Harry Potter books, it's everywhere.
Too smart by half advertising agencies should spare a thought for us mums, ferrying kids around.
Don't they know we're flat out trying to figure out what we're having for tea, without being turned into mobile sex education instructors.
Some days, when the questions are flying thick and fast, I feel like saying `` Not today kids, Mum's got a headache''.
The whingeing when we usually ignored their pleas to stop grated, but it was sweet watching them start their literacy journey.
``There's a big M,'' they would say. Invariably, they would clobber each other over who spotted the Golden Arches first.
But that's nothing on the challenges we face when we pile into the car now the two eldest can read. There's danger at every turn.
Driving along the freeway, the eldest asked what the billboard declaring ``JOIN FOR FOX SAKE'' meant. ``Ummm, not sure,'' I muttered.
Then her brother, 8, and sister, 5, started repeating it, emphasising the FOX SAKE.
It's part of a campaign for women to join Fernwood gyms to become foxy.
I guess it was a change on the controversial Longer Lasting Sex campaign. Who would have thought on a trip from Werribee Zoo there would be so many of those signs? On one outing my daughter, now 10, and her mate were in hysterics. We were nearly home when I cracked on to the cause of their heightened amusement.
``Does that mean you smooch for a long time?'' my son asked.
A friend says if they are old enough to ask the question they are old enough to get an explanation.
But how do you explain sexual dysfunction - thrust at us in billboards and radio ads - to kids?
And what about the preppie who can't read but hears it all? Recently, as we stopped at a traffic light my son asked me what a ``sty'' was.
``It's where pigs live,'' I said. ``No, Mum, it's STI and it's something to do with sex,'' he countered.
In my day they were STDs but now, the billboard says, they are STIs.
Looking straight ahead, I told them it is what you get if you aren't careful about who you have sex with.
``Mum, stop, too much information we don't want to know about that,'' my daughter countered. ``We are getting sex education at the end of Grade 5.''
If that's not bad enough there are the billboards for Sexyland and the ``World's Thinnest Condom''.
I employed the distraction method when handling the question as to why people would want thin condoms, changing the topic to the bangers and mash we were having for tea.
So, news yesterday that the State Government has sanctioned the use of ``d..khead'' in a Don't be a D..khead advertising campaign to make people wear seatbelts and turn off their mobiles while they are driving made me shudder.
While we're told it's largely a viral campaign on the internet, there will be little escaping it.
Granted ``d..khead'' is often used as a term of endearment, but do we really need to normalise it in the same way as the word ``bloody''?
Between ``Don't be a bloody idiot'' road campaigns, ``Where the bloody hell are you?'' tourist campaigns and the use of ``bloody hell'' by Ron Weasley in Harry Potter books, it's everywhere.
Too smart by half advertising agencies should spare a thought for us mums, ferrying kids around.
Don't they know we're flat out trying to figure out what we're having for tea, without being turned into mobile sex education instructors.
Some days, when the questions are flying thick and fast, I feel like saying `` Not today kids, Mum's got a headache''.
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