Three Jewels of London, Ontario

The bicycle is a wonderful contraption. Leaving no carbon footprint whatsoever, you are free to meander where your heart and impulses carry you. Here are three gems I discovered while cycling hither and thither in London.

- The Museum of Archaeology, located in the northwestern suburbs, is London’s best-kept secret. I was lured because it is the only active archaeological dig inside a major city in Canada. Wandering through a 500-year old Iroquois village complete with stockade, longhouse, sweatlodge and, of course, some diggings, I had fantasies of Indiana Jones, raiding war parties and mysterious old relics.

- I dismounted next at Fanshawe Pioneer Village, located in Fanshawe Conservation Area, a delightful large parkland surrounding Fanshawe reservoir that offers camping, fishing, hiking and more. But for me, the highlight was the Pioneer Village. I love history and wandering amongst the old hotel, school, sawmills, general store and many other historic buildings carried me back to the early 1800s. I can’t wait to return when they hold the War of 1812 re-enactment.

- Weary and saddle sore I arrived next at Banting House National Historic Site, the humble two-story house where Dr. Frederick Banting practiced family medicine downstairs while living upstairs. I gazed at the bed where he awoke one night with the idea that led to insulin as a means of treating diabetes. Another room displayed the Military Cross that he won in the Second World War. Colourful landscapes, which Banting painted under the mentorship of A.Y. Jackson, adorned a wall. I cycled away, profoundly moved by this gifted Canadian.

- If You Go

-London Information: www.londontourism.ca

-Archaeology Museum: www.uwo.ca/museum

-Pioneer Village: www.fanshawepioneervillage.ca

-Banting House: www.diabetes.ca/about-us/who/banting-house/

London, Ontario: A river runs through it

My butt is sore, but the rest of me is happy! I’ve just spent two sunny days astride a Raleigh Tomahawk mountain bike, pedaling the paths that line the Thames River in London, Ontario. Two branches of the river flow from the east, right into the heart of the city, where they join and then continue westward as one. The riverside paths follow a cornucopia of parks, playgrounds and nature, and it quickly became clear why London is called the Forest City. As I discovered, the Thames-side trails are as good as any inner-city bike paths in North America, and a great way to explore London.

My friend Marty Rice and I started in the west end at Story Book Gardens and Springbank Park. We dodged around mothers pushing baby carriages and geese shepherding little fuzzy goslings across the path. We stopped for gelatos at the recently renovated Wonderland Gardens, where Glen Miller and Guy Lombardo once played on sultry summer evenings. A plaque marked the site of one of Canada’s greatest maritime disasters, the sinking of a pleasure boat with the loss of 182 lives. The paths also offer views of the city’s underbelly: we looked into back yards, passed old pumping plants and at the Labatt’s brewery the smell of hops hung in the air. We hopped off the bikes to wander through the gardens of Eldon House (London's oldest residence), to stroll about the elegant grey limestone buildings of the University of Western Ontario and to savour a hot dog at Grandpa’s Chip Wagon. With the sun sinking low and our legs pleasantly weary, we gingerly dismounted and headed for a pub.

-If you Go

-Bike rentals: Herms Sport Exchange: http://www.hermssports.com/

-London information and bike maps: http://www.londontourism.ca/

-Accommodation: Residence Inn, Marriott: www.marriott.com/yxuri, or University of Western residences (May to August): http://www.stayatwestern.com/

The Great Ocean Road Bids Us Farewell

Australia is indeed blessed. Here is an immense island rimmed by thousands of miles of sandstone headlands, bays with azure waters and golden sand beaches. Living with the sea is an integral part of being an Aussie. Our last two days before returning to Canada were spent, appropriately, driving from Adelaide to Melbourne which, happily, includes the famous Great Ocean Road, probably the most beautiful coastal drive in the world.
The first day was mostly inland with some glimpses of the coast. We stayed overnight at Robe in South Australia, an attractive town with dozens of historic buildings of buff sandstone blocks and dating to the early 1800s. An obelisk (a cheap version of a lighthouse) built in 1855 stands guard on a cliff with turquoise waves pounding against the rocks below.
The second day we were immersed in the incredible beauty of the Great Ocean Road. Viewpoints were many, but the best was the Twelve Apostles (OK, perhaps only 9 and a half), large jagged stacks of rock that have been separated from the mainland by erosion. Mist swirled, waves rolled in from far out in the Southern Ocean and they stood impassively like giant sentinels.
The narrow winding road, often marked with "Drive on the left in Australia" signs led us to a broad white sand beach where we stripped down to our bathers for a final bit of sun.
Then the road turned inland and all too soon we were in Geelong and then Melbourne. Next day a giant metal box with wings carried us back to the tail-end of a Canadian winter.

The Barossa Valley and Other Vinophilic Temptations

As my dearest and I discovered after many a blurry morning, Australia is a wine lover’s (vinophile’s?) paradise. Everywhere we went we saw rows of vineyards, often draped in netting, marching up and down rolling hills: in Tasmania, on Kangaroo Island, and in hundreds of places in South Australia and Victoria. It is clear that wine is one of Australia’s main industries.
Furthermore, it’s easy and inexpensive to purchase wine. In Canada, liquor stores are government-run, over-priced and inconvenient. In Australia, Bottle Shops, as they are called, are ubiquitous and, get this, many of them are drive-through. Best of all, the prices are very reasonable, starting at $5 Australian per bottle; boxed wines are even more of a bargain. Of course, some wines such as the famous Penfolds Grange can exceed a thousand dollars per bottle.
One day we made a pilgrimage to the Mecca of wine, the Barossa Valley north of Adelaide in South Australia, where world-class wines have been produced since 1850. We wended our way through gentle arid hills dotted with eucalyptus trees. The vineyards, which spread everywhere, were turning golden and the harvest had just passed. With 73 wineries to visit (another 50 don’t have visitor’s centres) we selected three that sell widely in Canada: Jacobs Creek, Penfolds and Wolf Blass. The size of these operations was impressive and far larger than anything we have seen in Niagara or the Okanagan. The drive through the beautiful valley was grand and the tastings were wonderful. It was a delightful day ... as we can best remember.

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For information: http://www.southaustralia.com/ & www.barossa.com

Moorunde Wildlife Reserve: Saving a Hairy-Nosed Critter

South Australia is an amazing place. One day we were hedonists in the vibrant, cosmopolitan city of Adelaide, the next day we were encamped in the dry, sparse landscape of the outback. My dearest and I were invited to Moorunde Wildlife Reserve, established in 1968 to help save the endangered Southern Hairy Nosed Wombat.
We drove many kilometres of dirt track with our windows open to catch the breeze and with a long plume of dust trailing behind us. We opened gates and closed them behind us. This is mallee country, named for a scrawny eucalyptus tree, but which is mostly barren ground, yet, as we were to learn, is remarkably alive with strange creatures and plants. Once we closed the last gate and entered Moorunde, the landscape was frequently like the surface of Mars with craters of warrens dug by the wombats who live underground.
The reserve, which consists of an enormous 6900 hectares but only gets about 13 cm of rain a year, was created in 1968, an amazing achievement, especially since it was done entirely by volunteers, the Natural History Society of South Australia, who continue to maintain the property. Not only have the number of hairy-nosed creatures increased by fencing out sheep, but the scientific understanding of these and other creatures has been advanced.
We stayed overnight in an old caravan without running water or electricity. Essentials consisted of a nearby roof-rain-tank that supplied remarkably tasty water and a long-drop toilet. It was grand, and the stars were better than an IMAX theatre.
Dr. Peter Clements took us for long walks and showed us that the soil consists of a delicate crust full of lichens, spider holes, ant hills and hardy plants. I loved the bird life, so bright and colourful including pink and gray galahs, brilliant green parakeets and, of course, not-so-tiny emus. Wildlife was everywhere consisting of kangaroos, wombats, emus, lizards and echidnas.
The focal points of the reserve are two water stations, where large sheets of horizontal, corrugated iron catch rain water and divert it into tanks. The tanks trickle water to small water holes that attract animals like a magnet. The water hole we visited was easy to find for animal trails led to it like the roads that lead to Rome.
We left, overwhelmed by the incredible adaptability of life and the bizarre yet beautiful forms it can take. Just as impressive is what volunteers can achieve. We all need to pitch in and help preserve the environment.

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For information: http://www.southaustralia.com/ & www.nathist.on.net

Adelaide: Warmth and Great Eats

Adelaide is a warm city, hot even. It’s early fall and today was 33 deg. C. Known as the city of churches, Adelaide is unusual because its downtown is laid out with geometric precision. The “square mile” was designed in 1836 with broad north-south and east-west boulevards and symmetrically-located parks. This inner core is surrounded by a ring of green space and only then do the suburbs begin.

North Terrace, along the northern edge of the square mile, is the cultural area. We walked slowly from one shady patch to another, stopping at park benches to sip water as we visited the old and new parliament buildings, the art gallery, the state museum, the University of South Australia, the Adelaide Botanic Gardens (established in 1855), Government House and other historic dwellings. A few hundred metres to the north, the river Torrens flows along.

The Hilton Adelaide, our home for several days, is located almost in the exact centre of the square mile and conveniently is next door to the bustling Central Market, which is crammed with shops and booths selling every conceivable item produced by mankind. It also has a fabulous selection of Asian food outlets.

Happily, a stop for trams, which are free in the square mile, lies directly in front of our hotel. Yesterday we took the tram westward to historic Glenelg on the coast. Tall palm trees, a broad beach, old sandstone buildings and hundreds of restaurants, cafes and shops greeted us. In contrast to the brash vibrancy of Sydney’s surf beaches, Glenelg has a genteel and charming dignity.

Best of all, Adelaide is surrounded by world-class vineyards including the Barossa Valley, McLaren Vale and the Clare Valley. Wines and good food are a way of Aussie life, a wonderful gastronomic hedonism. Gouger and Rundle streets are non-stop rows of restaurants and cafes and in the evenings my dearest and I jostled with happy crowds to find empty spots amongst the tables that spill onto the sidewalks. Ah, it’s bliss to dine al fresco in the warm air with a good bottle of Aussie wine.

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For information: http://www.southaustralia.com/ & www.hilton.com

& www.touradelaide.com

White Man on a Walkabout

On Kangaroo Island I had a glimpse deep inside the treasure chest of human culture. I met Karno Walker, who traces his lineage to the first black man seen by explorers in South Australia. In a strong Australian accent he explained how he is fighting a court case to get his tribe, the Ramindjeri, recognized as the original occupants of Kangaroo Island and the adjoining mainland.

He took me on a walkabout through the dry landscape. We passed an ant mound with an eagle skull on it, which Karno had left for his brothers, the ants. Picking up a feather from the ground, he did an elaborate ceremony, almost a dance, whirling the feather about and presenting it to me. “The bird is welcoming you to his land,” he said.

Approaching a large solitary eucalyptus tree, Karno told a story of a giant kangaroo bigger than the tree. The men wanted to hunt it but had only one spear. They cooperated and some men herded it toward the spear thrower. Others threw rocks. They were successful and cut up the body at the joints. There was food for everyone across the land. The rocks strewn about the landscape represented all the pieces of meat. The men then hunted a giant emu. Karno pointed at rocks that were the perfect shape of an emu footprint.

He held up his left hand with the fingers spread. “When I bring young aboriginal fellers here, I explain that my fingers show their way of life: drugs and addiction, flashy cars, loud music, bright lights and bullshit.” Then he did a broad sweep with his right hand, “and this is what you’re giving up. This is what’s really important,” I tell them. “The environment is essential to life, not the dole.”

Further along he told a story of paddling a canoe with a young man. It was a story-dance as he made the motions of paddling first a large canoe, then a small canoe and got out and back in.

He told more stories and explained that he was only scratching the surface, that each had many more layers. He also explained the enormous importance of such stories and dances to his people. They belong to individuals and telling someone else’s story is stealing.

I left with my head whirling at the richness and meaning of aboriginal stories.

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For information: http://www.southaustralia.com/