5...4...3...2...1...Happy New Year!

Port Stephens here we come! With a brand new year just around the corner, Rock was determined to turn the waning year of the dog into the year of the pig with one final binge of takeaways and ice cold coka cola.

First stop Newcastle. With brooding storm clouds punctuated by spears of lightening looming ominously over the city, first impressions were eerie. Against the desolate skyline, rows of rusting cranes and refinery pipes were starkly silhouetted against the ominous sky - fantastical skeletons, the remnants of a better time. And that's where the remnants of Rock's literary training end - it's hard to hold the mood when the next metaphor revolves around towering Striders marching their way through City 17 as an MIT physicist dodges explosions by leaping up and down in a bizarre bunny hop motion in what looks suspiciously like an orange babysuit...

Below the poet takes a moment to acknowledge his fans.

The Newcastle breakwater stretches out into the distance while Rock stretches out his shirt in all the wrong directions.

The idea behind the breakwater was presumably to protect ships from the wrath of the South Pacific. What they didn't count on was one of the ships having a navigator on par with Rock and his "just 'cause I printed the first low res jpeg I could find doesn't mean it ain't detailed" map.

But to return to Newcastle (metaphorically speaking, since no visitor in their right mind will be following this course of action), the "city" as the welcome sign optimistically proclaimed, was pretty much a ghost town. Except all the ghosts had buggered off too out of sheer boredom. Think the Westport of Australia. Or better yet, don't think, just get out. The lasting memory of the place will forever be the melancholy sight of a lone jazz musician droning out an empty tune on a battered sax - in the middle of a totally empty bar on a dreary rain-swept street...

So, on to bigger and better things. Much bigger. Like the gigantic sand dunes on Stockton beach.


"No, you lame!"


"What a desolate place this is"... Any second the Jawa trawler is gonna come rumbling over the skyline. Never has there been a more opportune spot to roll out inane Star Wars quotes or wax lyrically on Half Life sand textures.

"That malfunctioning little twerp. This is all his fault! He tricked me into going this way, but he'll do no better."

Mei doesn't quite grasp the gravity of being marooned in the middle of the desert without a Chinese takeaway in sight.


Now this is an award winning shot. And it only took the stuntman three takes to get it right.


The sand didn't look quite this hard from up there...

Leaving the desert behind, next stop is Tomaree Head, the rocky headland guarding the Southern entrance to Port Stephens. I mean next stop not counting I'mTiredI'mHungry stops.

Sweeping vistas, golden beaches, what's not to like. Well, the sweltering humidity. And the gigantic bird eating spiders lurking at the periphery of the trail.


Next Rock leads the expedition on a wild Koala chase up the Tillgerry penninsula. The guide book said a sighting of a Koala in the wild was almost guaranteed. The website said they'd be in every tree. Every second street is called Koala Way/Lane/Terrace. The park is called Koala park. And there's a picture of a pelican below. 'Nuff said.


New Year's resolution: spend an entire year working off this enormous feast of Chinese takeaways, chippies, tim tams, washed down with ice cold coka cola and half a kilo of chocolate mud cake. Screw that, I'm going in for seconds. And thirds.