The "not ticking boxes" scandal.... epilogue

Well after a year of underlying mutual disrespect originally fuelled by my failure to tick the right boxes, I finally seem to be doing some things right.





Above is my year four program analysis sheet for English. The unlucky 13th one out of 16 I've had or will have this year. It seems though I have started to get things right.

For those without Kryptonite vision. Here is what the "rose tinted/embossed" sheet says:

Dear Chris,(nice start) Thank you for your program. It is by far the most comprehensive and detailed document you have submitted and I congratulate you on achieving this given the difficulties in finding your feet earlier (seeing as I thought you were complete crap in April). Your activities are well planned especially in the writing of text types. Perhaps you could send me one or two when complete. Students will enjoy the "Old Man" task (copyright Jane Ashcroft 1993) I'm sure. Many thanks for your efforts and contributions to Glendore.

So typical that I just start to get it right and it is almost time to leave. So am I a convert of this way of doing things?........No. It is still a pile of paper wasting, box ticking tosh. The system is based on mistrust where you just have to learn which hoops to jump through and it is management's job to react to mistakes rather than support and implement quality teaching.

(Back in a moment, just putting my soapbox away in the cupboard.)

OK I am maybe being a little unfair and lots of people have been willing to help me and I've never felt that I couldn't ask questions but as I said before I didn't always know what questions I had to ask. My approach to the whole "Why have we got a useless pom?" mentality has been the juvenile "Right I'll show you!" approach. So maybe I've just fallen for the old reverse psychology trick. Anyway, everybody's happy, nobody got hurt and in two months from now I'll remind myself of all the pitfalls of teaching in England.

Flames of Polynesia and the big acc'n mess up!

Before we mention the highs and lows of our Australian "Polynesian Evening" we need to explain our slight mess up with our cabin. Whilst at Hamilton Island we got a call asking when we were checking out. "Tomorrow morning" we said " But you are due out today and someone is coming into your room. When can you get back here?" Well ordinarily we could have re-arranged our plans and sorted something out. As it was we were on a two island cruise and had also planned this special evening and we had allowed ourselves 10 minutes to whizz in the Cabin, get out and be on our evening boat 30 minutes later. Their original confirmation e mail had got the dates wrong, we rang to change the dates, they had said it was OK .but we did not check when we arrived and unbeknown to us we were still being kicked out on Friday. Anyway, the final solution was that they would move all our stuff (We had not packed at all) to their sister camp site. The only blessing was that it was closer to the boat, so after a day buggying and beaching we had the luxury of 30 minutes to check in, find all our stuff, wash and get out. We got to the bus stop, with ten seconds to spare ,before our transport arrived. Little were we to know that this ricketty old bus was to be our best transport of the evening. This is because when we arrived at the harbour and walked along the Jetty towards what looked like a really plush catamaran, we took a sudden turn right and stepped on a miniscule yacht, designed for 30, which was taking 70 of us!The first lucky 20 got the musty broken sofa inside... the rest had to stand, or risk life and limb outside. Tina forgot to take a photo.She was too busy scowling. Well, we survived the journey and our final destination was South Molle Island. Apart from the luxury boat cruise, we were also tempted by the seafood buffet. I say we, but realised that once we arrived that Tina was the only one really into seafood. I was game though and grabbed myself a lump of crab shell. Jessica was more intrigued by the implements I had to use to extract my 2g of crab meat from my 1/2 kilo of shell. I approached the oysters in the same way as I did when I ate the chocolate covered cricket at Marchwood, before I left and the mealworm at the Australian Reptile park. Well after the dubious boat and food we were slightly anxious at the sight of luminous painted signs with three middle aged blokes in front, in Hawain shirts doing Beatles classics and signing off with the "Benny Hill chase" theme tune. When the dancers finally arrived things got better, but a bottle of wine and a couple of cocktails might have helped see things in a better light. Fuelled by her glass of "Pink Panther" Tina spent the rest of the evening chasing the resident thick knee curlews. This was as close as she got. A testament to the fleetfootedness of these curious birds, or more likely she was half cut. Needless to say, the boat journey back was not as unpleasant. J and A sat down inside, with Jessica's new friend and we had a bracing seat outside, reflecting on the fact that this was the final night of our final holiday and in 2010 we might be able to afford to go on a holiday somewhere else. A farewell shot of Airlie beach. After this we whizzed to the airport to find out that it was so small that it was basically shut. We saw two people manning the cafe and a security guard eating her lunch. We went to the nearby town, Proserpine, and returned an hour later. Finally arriving home 10pm on Saturday night. This left one day to do all my term four programmes. Bring it on!

Riding in a buggy, stuck in sand but no Golf clubs!

The Fantasea company who took us to reefworld really know how to squeeze a few extra dollars out of you. Our final day was a two island cruise. Now it appears that every blooming ferry goes via Hamilton Island anyway so the prospect of a two hour stop there when we had already seen it done it and bought the rain sodden T shirt two days before did not make it that appealing but was just supposed to be a means to an end ie Whitehaven Beach. Two differences though one this time it was sunny and two this time we were armed with a golf buggy. This apart from courtesy buses is the only way to get around the island. Road Rules apply though so without her driving licence, Tina was gutted and it was left to me to do the driving.
No rearview mirror so we relied on two backward facing children shouting "Daddy there's another lorry coming" (Yes, no cars but loads of construction vehicles)



Another drop dead gorgeous lookout ruined by 4 English people standing in front of it. The nice touch about this one is the temporary bar that opens every night just in time for sunset. Unfortunately we were not around long enough to sample it. It was up here we got our ill fated telephone call from our accommodation(see Polynesia blog)



Golf buggies can only go so fast though so the children were tormented by a great paddling facility that there was no time to paddle in.



We were all tormented by the quintessiantial palm fringed beach that there was no time to enjoy. We had a boat to catch and a different beach to lounge on.


The destination was Whitehaven beach on Whitsunday Island , lovely white sands the aerial shots of it look fabulous but at the end of the day and from ground level it's a beach and a pleasant day in Boscombe would probably be equally satisfying and much cheaper.

First out of the bag, even before our knotted hankies, deckchair and stick of rock were my two class mascots (Brucy and Lucy) They've been to Uluru and skied in New Zealand so they couldn't miss out on the Reef.



The bucket and spades were complimentary from Fantasea. I supposed when you've handed over $ 400 the least they can do is give you something to play with.



The drinks were not free but with that caribbean feel I felt the need for an alcoholic experiment.
After beer there seems a strange obsession over here for filling shelves with tins of rum and coke or Jim Beam and Coke. Now I've always maintained a preference for fizzy cold australian lager but the time seemed right to see what all the fuss was about and I must admit as I laid back on my "noodle" in the warm water looking up at the sapphire blue sky it really made me feel like I was drinking, cheap, warm coke.



Alex dived between the sea, buckets and spades and the volleyball net. He refused however to play volley ball but instead invented some very complicated game which he said was a combination of rugby, volleyball and basketball. We never quite fathomed the rules except that somehow it always involved him winning... or else! To be fair to him he is a much better sport than his father but that is not saying much.




The sly camera shots in the promotional leaflets obviously blend out the 500 other people who are sharing your tropical island getaway with you. This was our best effort at perpetuating the myth that we had the place to ourselves but two distant specks in the background got in the way. Selfish b*******.

Good grief...more reef !....Where's Wally?

Reefworld.
well, we couldn't get enough 'reef', or is that relief? so...once more we tackled the sea-sickness tablets to endure the boat journey, but this time we headed to the 'outer reef' to a pontoon.
The children are very good at entertaining themselves on boats, as they know I don't do travel too well....and it's best to leave Mum alone! Chris had introduced Jessica to the joys of Adeventure Game books.....and Alex soon became involved and obsessed with the idea of a game within a book....where you have to decide what to do and then throw dice to find out your fate against the monsters you meet....so here they are in deep discussions, trying to make a decision.
"Shall we fight Igbut the gnome or offer him the sacred ruby of Golanthia?"
So when they end up spending their teenage years intricately hand painting orcs in "Games Workshop" you'll know where it all began. (Not that there is anything wrong with that Richard Saunders, if you are reading this! )



Ready for action, with our wet suits, life jackets, flippers, goggles, snorkles and sterile detatchable mouth-piece! (which Alex & I found very uncomfortable!)



Once more, bravely into the depths....and you should have seen the size of the fish that got away!! They had a permanent viewing area for several huge 'Gropers' that just liked to 'hang out' under the platform!


And this was a very friendly fish called 'Wally' (he is a Wrasse) and if you want to see better photos of his click on Where'sWally'. During our family snorkel tour he decided to join us; he loved being stroked(he was slimy, yet satisfying!) Jessica was very excited and scared....it was so funny to hear her screaming and laughing underwater. It sounded so ungrateful to say to the snorkel guide, " no sorry, I didn't see what you were pointing out because the bloody fish was in the way!"


And in true James Bond Style, we ended our adventure by escaping in a submarine; well, that would have been my perfect ending..... but we managed to endure the 2 hour return journey, without anyone throwing up......so that was nice.

Daydream Disbeliever

So Daydream island subtropical island paradise? Not the day we went there. Aside from the fact that it was pouring down with rain. The sign looks like it has been done on microsoft word art and the welcome includes a view of an Eastbourne Park bench and a plastic bin. Now on the spectrum of "holiday weather" luck we have tended to do pretty well here and in the past. In saying this I will disregard our flooded tent in Looe in 1998. 10 days of winter mid August in Canada 2004 (lovely wedding though, Janice/Joel) and 24 hours getting to Luxembourg to see an eclipse on a cloudy day. We all know those people who say, "We've been going to Hunstanton for 30 years and it's not rained once!" There is a word for them liars, so carrying on our... "Keeping it real "blog policy...here is one dedicated to crap weather.



Here is the view of aquamarine/ turgid grey waters on the way over.



The purpose of the trip was supposed to be going to the Outer Barrier Reef but when they stopped off at Hamiltom Island you had a bailing out option. We took it. The problem was that it meant a 40 minute wait, for a 40 minute ferry (followed by a 40 minute bus ride) to get us home. So we stood under cover and admired the view. That is a road, not a river in the foreground by the way.



Tina and Jessica got tired of the view.



For those of you revelling in our misery I will smugly tell you that it cleared up in the afternoon so we visited another municipal lagoon.



But you'll pleased to know that it rained twice as hard the day after!!!!!

Take the last Train to Townsville....

'Hey, hey, we're the Monkees, and people say we monkey around, but we're too busy singing......to pull anybody down!' I know these words don't go with the title but it made me think of this song . So, we arrive in Townsville. The drive down to The Whitsunday Islands was ten hours. Too much for one day we thought especially as the view basically consisted of sugar cane fields. So having resisted the temptation to stop off at the Sugar Cane museum on the way down we arrived in time to check out the local attractions.



Before the bucket....and after! The children fighting to put each other in the line of the downpour at the free water park along the promenade.



Chris got up early to jog along the peaceful prom.... then took a dip in the pool. This Townsville hotel also provided a source of mystery. If you look at this pool shot closely apart from a hunky male you will also see , a hosepipe and the "plug". Now follow the line between the hosepipe and the plug and you will see another black dot. This was infact a set of car keys which came flying past us and landed in the pool at about 11pm the night before. We sat intently waiting for some irate male shouting "****##*@%%' " as he dived into the pool fully clad who would then shake his fist at some female smirking on a balcony above us before slouching off but nobody ever came. So having completed his 6 lengths Chris took the keys to reception and we can only guess how or why they ended up there. I risked going out on the balcony in my silky nighty to get this photo, but at 7 in the morningI didn't need to worry as there were few people about. I only embarrased myself when Chris stood in the shower asking me who it was on the music channel and I read the weather forecast scrolling along the bottom by mistake and told him it was Alice Springs rather than Dido. Although he says he should be equally embarrased for showing interest in A Dido record.



The good thing about waking up early is that there is so much more you can do with your day!
This playground, for teenagers, was so impressive that I took plenty to send to local councils back home! It had things like arm wrestling and a collection of swing round seats, which suggested on the plaque,' sit and spin or just chat a while'.



That little dot at the top is Jessica. I get quite nervous at her bravery!(it's hard to get a true impression of just how high this climbing structure was.)




In case we have upset any irate Monkee fans out there; we know it was actually Clarksville

Last Day in the Far North.

8 nights in Port Douglas and lazy swines that we are we had spent most evenings doing the two miles into the centre by car or courtesy bus (If mummy and daddy both wanted a little drink) we were therefore kicking ourselves that we didn't bother walking into town after we discovered it could be done via a stunning beach stroll. Why hadn't we done this earlier? We won't get a chance to do it again! Mind you it took us over an hour so we probably would not have done it again anyway. We also found that the majority of other people seemed to be running it or cycling it, our pace was definitely strolling especially as we had a bottle of red wine with us. We were surprised that more people were not doing this until we found out later that it is a criminal offence in Queensland to drink in public unless at a licensed premises....OOPS!
We enjoyed it anyway although any pictures of this could not be downloaded as we look half cut in all of them including the one below.



Sitting under palm trees was probably not a good idea because there were some ominous looking nuts dangling from several of them.



There is some sense of purgatory about Queensland though that the waters are so inviting yet so deadly and so no beach swim; instead we satisfied ourselves by returning to Mossman Gorge this time with beach towels and cheese sandwiches. It was midday so whilst we stupidly cultivated our melanomas Jess and alex found some shade to play their games.



Sad to say this seems to primarily involve the toy dogs they got from Mcdonalds (AKA Maccers).
Sadder to say they have the complete set! We'll be interested to find out if they are doing the "my dinner now" sales con back in England "The dinner you'd cook if you cooked".



Having tired of sunbathing Tina got her watercolours out. The offer of tap water from our Evian bottle was not enough though so I was sent to get her some proper Gorge water. Bloody Artists!



And here is what was painted or something similar involving rocks. She prides herself in having claimed a souvenir rock from all of our "interesting rock" locations. She can't wait to show them to everyone when she gets home. The fact they are going to add three more kilos to our luggage does not seem to worry her.
Look carefully at the photo below and you will also see how we had absolutely minutes of enjoyment stacking rocks. It reminds me of taking bored year six pupils on beach walks and gettting to the "oh no! what shall we do with them now?" scenario.



In between all this some bathing was had. I enjoyed this too until I nearly got swept down the river so stayed in "stiller" water only to find this is better known as stagnant water and was hence the home of several thousand larvae of some description.

Warning! Achtung!

Crocs everywhere! We were actually surprised,when we arrived at Hartley's Crocodile Adventures, at the amazing number of crocs they had! These animals are seriously scary because they lie so still......looking like old logs......and then suddenly they move; it's even worse in the water because you just don't see them until those huge jaws come snapping out of the murky depths! I was having kittens as this keeper talked to us, while standing ankle and then knee deep in the water, with a rather large croc, commenting on how unpredictable they are! You should have seen him feed the crocodile a small sardine from his hand! (actually there is a video of this on youtube but I can't find the link!) We didn't feel we could subject you to any more videos of crocs, since we have already put Eric on our blog.)




This strange looking creature is a cassowary in case you didn't know already. Far more interesting than an emu . If he hadn't fallen off a roof Rod Hull would probably still have a career if he'd chosen to stick his hand up one of these, so to speak.



I have video footage of this too! Feeding the crocs from the boat...they jumped really high from the water to get the food!



And these freshwater crocodiles are slightly different to the 'Salty'....note the narrow snout.

Culture, cable cars and carriages

Our last real insight into aboriginal culture was in Uluru but the cultural centre looked like it was worth a visit and so it was if only for the fact that we all learnt to throw a boomerang properly so are now fully equpped for kanaroo stunning if the need ever arises. The stage show climaxed with the "killing the kangaroo" dance. Reminiscent of several upper school dance lessons.



Followed by "Aboriginal Idol"



Enough culture for one day so up another cable car (is that 4 or 5 this year?) . The difference being that this one took about 45 mins and involved an awful lot of " travelling majestically above the rainforest canopy" . "Look," said I "there's another tree!" There was a nice waterfall too but being the dry season it wasn't exactly cascading.



The final destination was Kuranda part of the Atherton tablelands with a strong tourist hotspot feel. It felt like walking through Cheddar having just looked at the Gorge. Trying to avoid the temptation of overpriced tourist tat and deciding which overpriced eating establishment would satisfy our wallet and nutritional requirements. I can't quite understand why we plumped for staring at rainforest for an hour and then deciding to go for the "rainforest view" cafe. Like we hadn't seen enough already. Obviously not because we rounded things off by walking through yet more rainforest.



A walk where we managed to get lost despite the clear signs and nearly missed our train. Here is Alex standing dutifully for Mummy's photo shot. Whilst Daddy strides on with a "we haven't got bloody time," attitude.The train by the way takes you near enough back to where you caught the "Skyrail"



Needless to say we did make the train easily in the end. The view was wonderful all the way down apparently but the long day and steady rocking meant we were all lulled off to sleep for about half of the downward journey.



I'm finishing there because as with all Barrier Reef holiday blogs so far, it comes via an internet cafe. But the g button on this particular keyboard is bein a real pi to press so I'm stoppin now
because it's ******g me off!