by Philip Game

Waiting for a bus is rarely fun.  On this Mediterranean island nation, at least, there’s the novelty of wondering just what much-loved relic will come lumbering down the road.  The motley fleet of public buses – often decades-old models boasting an abundance of chrome and proclaiming the owner’s faith in the Virgin Mary, or even commemorating the Antipodean suburb where he spent his earlier years – is paralleled in the veteran saloon cars maintained by enthusiasts like Harry Caruana.

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Labelled Sydney’s playground because of the abundance of outdoor activities on offer,  Port Stephens, just a two and a half hour drive north of Sydney is drawing visitors for its spectacular beaches and amazing sandhills.

But its biggest drawcard for overseas visitors are the bottle-nosed dolphins – at last count 160 of them – which make it Australia’s dolphin capital. Port Stephens has Australia’s largest population of these special creatures, and on a dolphin watch cruise you’ll see dozens cresting the waves and performing for spectators on the boats.  But it’s also a great place to go dune-driving ithrough massive sandhills.  We spent one day driving off the edge of sheer sand cliffs in the Stockton sand dunes – all 32 kms of them. I’ve been sand-duning in Dubai and Saudi, but this was the craziest.   That afternoon we tried sandboarding down the steep slopes on makeshift sandboards. You can also rent a quad bike, though we thought better of this after we came across one injured biker who’d come a cropper doing a daredevil stunt flying off the top of sand dunes…..

This is just a sample... for more on this fabulous area, request a story be written to your exact requirements; email me on karen@globaltravelwriters.com

In the desert you can hear your heart thump…

Salim poked the tyres then jumped behind the wheel, gunning the big white Landcruiser down the sandy wheel ruts, out the makeshift gate and down the length of the giant, sinuous brick-red dune towering over his camp.  Sunset was forty minutes away. 

Salim wove between tufts of vegetation, climbing up to the main ridge, pointing the vehicle's nose steeply down to negotiate the dips between dune crests.  Cardiac arrest seemed imminent…

Then we pulled up ahead of the longest and steepest drop of all, plummeting to the black gravel of a wadi or dry gulch.  "Shall we try it? Don't know if we can…" queried Salim, trying not to grin.  Just kidding.  “Go on, trust in Allah”, I assured him.  Meant it, too.  No liability insurance out here. 

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