But the thing about living in Australia – a country the size of Europe with the population of Greater London – is that it’s just impossible to have trains leaving every five minutes to every populated patch of land. You’d need more train drivers than there are people across the whole continent! And so it has finally become necessary for me to evolve from Driven to Driver and procure my own set of wheels.

If I have to transport myself around though, I want to have fun. I can’t afford a plane or helicopter, a boat is only practical for seaside destinations, jet-packs are still far too impractical and economically inefficient, so that left me deciding on a motorbike. With the words from Iron Maiden’s From Here to Eternity and Megadeth’s 502 running through my head I completed a few hours of training, and was then sent through the gates of the training centre legally allowed to make a mess of myself on the Devil’s Bend or under any of the 88 wheels of a road train. I was back on track for that big Rock n Roll crash ending I’d always half-expected!

I won’t bore you with details of any of my near-misses, minor crashes, or even the major ones, but one phenomenon I have noticed which tickles me is the exclusive club I seem to have involuntarily joined. When I first started riding, I would occasionally think that I saw another rider on the road nod his head in my direction, but the more time I spent on the road the more I realised this was definitely happening. Maybe they think they recognised me – we must all look fairly similar with helmets and leathers on – but no, that’s not it. I know they can’t be acknowledging the quality of my ride; it’s a scuffed-up 22-year-old Japanese shit-heap! But still if a fellow rider pulled up beside me at the lights, cruised by whilst overtaking, or came past in the opposite lane he would look across and dip his head.

Then I realised this was simply an acknowledgement that we were on a vehicle with the same number of wheels. We were part of a prestigious club, albeit one which has millions of members nationwide. At first I thought it was as ludicrous as waving to everyone that drives past in a car the same colour as you, and laughed and ignored people who I saw doing it, but somehow I seem to have been taken in by it! As bikers we all share something more than just a choice of transportation; it’s a choice of lifestyle and a reflection of our personalities. Excitement determines what we do day-to-day, not practicality. We are thrill-seekers. We all think we have style; maybe even that we are the elite, better than everyone that needs four wheels to get around! And it’s not just a nod, it’s more akin to doffing one’s hat as a sign of mutual respect, or maybe a secret hand-shake! We share a secret – and that secret is how f***ing cool and liberating it is to be screaming down the road, leaning in to the corners, sailing past endless lines of traffic with the wind in our… helmets.

I’ve noticed a trend that certain riders do it more than others. Anyone on a cruiser, particularly a Harley, will always do it. Maybe because they’re the most pompous of all bike riders (I can’t wait to own one myself!) and yet no one on a moped will ever do it. Maybe they’re ashamed. I like to think so. Now when I find myself nodding at riders coming the other way I get a genuine sense of pride that I’m a biker as well. And I hate myself for it! What’s worse is that I get annoyed if they don’t do it back! There seems to actually be some people out there with enough of their own cool that they don’t need other people to acknowledge them to make them feel special. Bastards. Who do they think they are? I doffed my hat at you, sir, and you do not do likewise?! You have offended me and insulted my honour! Prepare to duel!

Or maybe I’m just over-thinking this.

For the example of a Stored Procedure, the contents are stored in INFORMATION_SCHEMA.ROUTINES and also syscomments and either can be queried:

SELECT ROUTINE_NAME, ROUTINE_DEFINITION
FROM INFORMATION_SCHEMA.ROUTINES
WHERE ROUTINE_DEFINITION LIKE ‘%foobar%’
AND ROUTINE_TYPE=’PROCEDURE’

SELECT OBJECT_NAME(id)
FROM syscomments
WHERE [text] LIKE ‘%foobar%’
AND OBJECTPROPERTY(id, ‘IsProcedure’) = 1
GROUP BY OBJECT_NAME(id)

In the second example GROUP BY is used because the stored procedures are stored in rows of up to 8000 characters so if the same procedure contains the search phrase in more than one row, only one reference is returned. This quirk does mean that the the search phrase could be split over more than one row, and therefore not returned in this search, so if you have very long procedures where this is likely a more complex search would need to be used which first concatenates the contents of  the fields.

Occasionally I come across a chilli beer which allows all the enjoyment of the spice and refreshment that would normally come with a curry and half a dozen lagers in one punchy little bottle; And this week I was lucky enough to find a real winner! Sunshine Coast’s Chilli Beer is indicated as being ‘hot’ by the evil, jagged looking chilli on the front of the bottle, and the pointy, red lettering reinforces the idea that this might be a little bit vicious. And it does not disappoint at all!

Not only is this one of the more ferocious chilli beers I have had the pleasure of enduring, it is packed with flavour from a lovely smack of spice and gorgeously refreshing beer. For the connoisseur, that fiery capsaicin flavour associated with such demons as the scotch bonnets and birds eye chillies is immediately apparent, as is all the depth of character and subtle smokiness of good raw chillies or angry hot sauces. The beer itself is a pale ale brewed in Australia and infused with Queensland birds eye chillies. Each bottle comes with a big fat chilli bobbing in the neck for a little bit of extra style, and once poured into a long glass it tantalisingly floats at the top, begging to be eaten.

I have to say that enjoying at least a few mouthfuls of the delectable amber ale before chomping down on the little red bastard is a must, because afterwards a lot of the subtleties of flavour will be a little bit masked – because although the beer itself is full of heat, the chilli adds another component altogether. That being said, waiting until you’ve finished the beer will mean you aren’t able to enjoy the extra heat that the chilli will provide as you continue to drink down the beer, which will dance across the tongue the cast of the musical ‘Stomp’ but in bigger boots. So if you do wait until the end of your bottle to munch down on the vicious red bugger, I’m sure you’ll want to follow my lead and grab another one of these beers straight away!

Enjoyed at Chapel Street Cellars, Melbourne.

Recently I experienced a problem where the Live database and server used one collation type and the Development environment used another. When it came to running scripts on these two environments we couldn’t be sure that the same script would have the same result on both servers.

One solution for resolving these collation problems is explicit declaration of collation within the database.

To do this:

1. Script all tables of the existing database, without Indexes, Constraints, Primary Keys, etc.
2. Update the generated script such that all collations match the preferred collation.
3. Create a new database, using the preferred collation.
4. Run the generated scripts against that database.
5. DTS the data from one to the other, without using the ‘create objects’ option, and with ‘use collation’ checked.
6. Script the entire original database, with primary keys, stored procedures, etc but WITHOUT the ‘Include DROP commands’
7. Update the script to use the preferred collation.
8. Run the script against the new database. The table creation lines will fail, but everything else should run, leading to a database with the data in the correct collation.

I love that sentiment that where you end up has a lot to do with chance, and so I sometimes like to add a random element to my travels. So when money was dwindling and I was in need of moving on I started a search for a job across all of Australia. I knew I would probably have to take work in a city where most of the web development jobs were, but in addition to the big state capitals that offer most opportunities there are a plenty of smaller cities and towns which support enough business that the occasional computer programmer is required. I had worked in Sydney before, and knew there was plenty of work there, but I was hoping for something new; something that would take me to a new place where I could experience a new flavour of Australiana, meet new people – start a new chapter of my life.

I had been looking for a couple of weeks and heard very little other than the sycophantic calls from agents who have found me the ‘perfect match’ only never to call back again. It probably didn’t help that for half that time I had been on an island with no phone signal, or at least that is what I told myself to explain the lack of interest I was receiving. But eventually I got the call I had been waiting for, and an interview had been set up. So with an array of cheat-sheets spread out in front of me, I had the telephone interview that was hopefully going to determine where I would be living for the next few months.

I heard back from the interview in a couple of days, and was offered the job working as a Web Developer on the support team of a digital agency called Sputnik. So I put aside any reservations I had about having to go back to coding Classic ASP and started planning my move to Melbourne!

A week later and I was living in The Lord’s Lodge, a hostel I had stayed in before and which was a great place to meet people. The advantage of living in a hostel is everyone is there to make friends, everyone is new to the city or even to Australia, and everyone is up for a good time!

I had a couple of days to settle in before my job, so I unpacked my stuff and hung up my clothes for the first time in a couple of months. I had my own room – apparently a ‘bungalow’, though I think ‘potting shed’ was more appropriate, for although there weren’t too many freshly sprouted seedlings and garden tools, the place had a distinct air of a cramped garden shed about it that even the fairy lights around the window couldn’t dispel. I went to meet my agent and find out a bit more about the job. Well, that is why I went to meet her but not necessarily the outcome of our conversation. It seemed the job was a bit of a mystery, but would be fun. And once that was conversation was quickly dealt with we got on to more serious matters. Music. She’s very plugged in to the local musos’ scene and her boyfriend works in a guitar shop, so off we went to meet him and an hour later, on my first day in Melbourne, I was on the bus heading back to the hostel with a shiny new guitar and amplifier. I was ready to start city life!

The job turned out to be just as fun as I had hoped, and although there was a fair amount of Classic ASP support the job was so varied, working for dozens of clients throughout the week, I got to play with lots of websites, applications, and technologies. A few oldies required a bit of attention as I tried to remember concepts like XSLT coding from eight years ago, but I was pleased to be able to play with some more recent languages and new one ones too. But aside from the work, the place had a great energy to it. An open plan office with lots of areas to relax in – a nice coffee machine in the kitchen, bean bags and cushions spread over an area known as ‘the grassy knoll’, a fridge full of beer, even a room periodically reserved for massages! And the people I now work with are a good bunch too; some real boffins! One guy is using Arduino chips to help the office tomato plant send text messages and post instructions on Twitter when it needs watering or more sunlight; another person worth knowing is the guy who orders in our weekly hoard of beer and then promptly delivers the first one to your desk at 5pm every day! I can see myself getting used to this place.

Although at times I miss the mountain air or the solitude of island life, living in a city again has its advantages. It had been a while, and although I had spent a fair amount of time in my previous year pottering in London, Melbourne has a very different feel. I don’t live or work right in the CBD, so maybe that contributes a bit to the more laid back vibe, but I think it is something typical of most of the city; less rushing, less traffic, more smiling. And typically my first few nights out were spent getting to know the people who work in a few decent bars and restaurants! I quickly found out where to get the best coffees, beers, and cocktails. Which place serves the tastiest souvlaki and which to go to for some decent pasta; and where the best conversation and music can be heard.

Melbourne is as much a bohemian city as it is a metropolitan one. Street art is huge here, with tours operating to show the visitors to the city some of the finest examples. Every street corner or alleyway proclaims some mural of interest so it hardly seems necessary to join a group! There are plenty of buskers keeping the spirit of live music and celebration of freedom alive, such as Brendan who plays home-made ‘Dag Pipes’ made from an empty goon bag and an air-bed pump! Living practically on Chapel Street also meant I was close to both the fancy and the affordable – expensive restaurants and wine bars at one end and great local pubs at the other. The shops too cover all grounds, whether I want to buy a posh new frock or wander around the ‘op-shops’ looking for second hand treasures.

After a little over a week in The Lord’s Lodge I had drank too much, slept too little, and met lots of people. It was time to find a place of my own now I felt more at home and settled in, and it was with a professional skater amongst others that I decided to stay. It seemed a logical middle ground between a hostel and a quiet place of my own; with lots of visitors, friendly laid back people, and a kitchen and bathroom only shared with three other people!

And that’s where I am now living, gradually accruing more unnecessary baubles to adorn the room with – it started with pillows, posters and plants but slowly more is being added to make my room feel more like a home; a box or two of wine, a pile of books and an ever-growing collection of unsolved Rubik’s puzzles!

I’ve found Melbourne a difficult place to photograph; it would appear I’m much more at home with photographing lizards and trees – but I’ve tried to grab a few snaps, so take a look!

So when I saw a big cactus one day, covered with these delicious fruits which taste somewhere between watermelon and bubble gum, I was pleased at the chance to grab a few and strike back at this delicious weed, and do a bit for the native ecology. But I wasn’t the only one who had plans to striking out.

My first problem was the height of the cactus. The fruits were well out of reach, so I had to jump and grab. There are a few things I didn’t know about the prickly pear cactus which would have come in handy at this point. The first is that the pads are quite delicately attached to the bulk of the cactus, so if you try and pull a fruit that is still well attached you are liable to pull a branch covered with the things down on top of you. And the second thing I wasn’t aware of is that the little bastards have two types of spines on them. Each fruit might have a dozen visible spines like needles which are easily avoided, but they also have hundreds of hair-like spines which are so small they will cause hours of irritation over any part of exposed skin they come in to contact with. It was shortly after gathering a handful of them and sucking the sweet juice from my fingers that this last fact came into painful focus.

Imagine if you like, coming across a piece of wood covered in splinters and honey – and being too preoccupied with nature’s delicious natural sugars to stop and think before licking up the honey, splinters and all. At first it was a vaguely irritating sensation in my hands which I tried to remedy by finding all the little bastards and either plucking them out or more often snapping them off. Trying to dislodge those in the roof of my mouth with fingers still covered in the pesky needles seemed to be very counterproductive, and so eventually I resorted to donuts to flush the things through my system. Lots and lots of donuts.

So it was a couple of days before I felt an urge for sugary goodness which justified the inconvenience of the prickly fruits. But this time I was prepared! Using tongs (genius!) I held them over the gas burner on the hob and burnt all the little needles off. I imagined them screaming, in a fleeting moment of vindictive vengeance. And it was good. Cutting the skins off, and not being prickled once, I felt ready to enjoy the bright pink bounty staining the work top in front of me. So after a few quick samples, I threw the rest in a pot and cooked them up! I strained the juice after twenty minutes, added a heap of sugar, and cooked until it was too hot to continue stirring. When it gets hot enough, the sugar molecules change and then when the syrup cools it solidifies. So after a few minutes in the fridge, I had my first ever batch of prickly pear candy.

Vaguely pleasant to the taste, criminally dangerous to the teeth, and damaging to anything it came into contact with during the cooking process which wasn’t already pink. Probably easier to stick with chocolate.

Highlights:
- dozens of world class beers
- hearty main courses
- happy hours: 16:00-19:00 for drinks, 16:00-18:30 for food

Having recently moved to Melbourne my diary has been jam-packed with new bars, cafes and restaurants to try out. I wonder if I tried a different one for lunch and dinner every day whether I’d make it round them all before I struggled to fit through the doors, but that thought is not going to stop me from trying.

One of the cafes in Windsor that I have occasionally been dropping in to is the new Bohemia Cafe run by established head chef Viktor Sallay (Brighton Savoy Hotel, Hungarian kitchen at the Newmarket Hotel) and his business partner David Buchler. As with their other restaurant, Budapest restaurant and palinka bar, the aim of Bohemia is to deliver authentic Hungarian and European food and drink to the hungry and thirsty people of Melbourne. And they certainly deliver on this promise!

When he’s not needed in the kitchen, Viktor can often be seen at the tables in front of this tucked-away restaurant or hovering around the bar offering advice or conversation about the food and drink of his native Hungary. Having lived in Eastern Europe myself I can say that the best of the cuisine and beers are perfectly represented in Bohemia, whether you drop in for a delicious breakfast bagel topped with scrambled eggs and hollandaise sauce, a more substantial meal of stuffed schnitzel or goulash, or just want to try some of their expertly selected beers.

The menu evolves in complexity and variety as the day goes on but stays true to the restaurant’s European theme. The breakfasts served at the weekend combine the traditional bagel with a variety of accompaniments such as eggs, bacon, sausages, and much more if you’re feeling particularly hungry. There are simple lunchtime dishes; goulash, schnitzel, and salads or daily specials such as pastas. The evening choices, some of which are discounted during happy hour, include starters such as deep fried camembert which is crumbed with a crispy and crunchy coating served with csiki dipping sauce made from mayonnaise, beetroot, apple, onion and mushroom which complements the flavour of the cheese excellently. There are also the cevapcici skinless sausages which are well spiced and char grilled to give them an authentic flavour. The mains include a perfectly cooked half-duck with an abundance of moist meat and delicately flavoured crispy skin served with a heap of peasants’ mash and red cabbage and many signature stuffed schnitzels. The goulash is also perfectly prepared with a delicious creamy paprika sauce and Hungarian nokedli dumplings, and although the meat could have been of a higher quality I think this would have detracted from its authenticity!

To accompany these dishes is a selection from a drinks menu even longer than their food listing. This includes a good variety of wines and spirits (including several types of slivovitz, palinka, and absinthes) but it is in the choice of beers that this part of the menu really excels. On tap is Krusovice – a flavoursome Czech bitter lager, and Shofferhofer – an aromatic and fruity German wheat beer with undertones of banana. In addition to these are a large variety of bottled beers from all over Europe. Notable highlights include the multi award winning Krusovice Cerny for fans of a full flavoured dark beer, and Svijany, a classically produced Czech pilsner with no preservatives.

And if you have any room left after all that – a position I am yet to be in – I am told that the pancakes are pretty good as well!

It helped that the setting I had in mind was a tropical island in North Queensland. There’s something about remoteness that I think consolidates a community, brings people out of their shell and encourages friendships to become very strong very quickly. Maybe I’m just being overly-sentimental, but the friendships I made in six weeks living on Magnetic Island made such a huge difference to my time in Australia. The send-off party we had when we left was the most surprising event of all – with all sorts of people coming out to wish us bon voyage, and I was eager to get back and see them all.

I arrived at Townsville airport not long before Matt arrived back from his latest stint in the mines. When I moved out of my room on the Island Matt moved in, and I was looking forward to spending some time catching up whilst I stayed with him and Anthony, and Matt’s better half Jenna. I say ‘better half’ because I very quickly found out that Jenna was not only outside the airport waiting to take us to the Island in her ute, but she was also going to be stopping off at the bottle-shop to fill the back with lovely cold beers and as many boxes of wine as we could carry out of the shop!

The next few days were spent wandering between bars along the bay front; starting the days with bloody Mary’s and following them with jug after jug of margaritas in Noodies On The Beach, then after a plate of nachos maybe we’d head down to The Marlin Bar for a couple of jugs of beer and a steak, then back to Noodies. There’s not a lot of choice on that corner of the island, but when you have plenty of sun, good company and the bar owner insists on putting a sombrero on your head to commemorate your commitment to cocktails, you can’t really find fault with life. It’s just a great place to while away the days. There were lots of people I wanted to catch up with, and you could guarantee most of them would wander by at some point. So it was mainly outside these bars that I was able to catch up with old friends and make a few new ones as well.

After a week I went to stay with two other wonderful friends, Ally and Danielle, who came over from England a couple of years ago and have been living on the island ever since. Their house is in an amazing setting. Practically opening out into a currently completely parched lagoon, you can sit on the veranda on one side of the house and see lush rainforest trees and plants in any direction, see a dozen different coloured dragon flies around the pond, the sunbird nesting next to the porch door, hear the koalas grumbling in the trees, and the wallabies bounding across the neighbouring gardens.

A new addition to their family is Juno, a little Jack Russell / Papillon with as much character as he has energy and boldness! I learnt very quickly that if you throw him a ball or a bottle-top you will have a friend for life. And he was incessant! I don’t think there was a single occasion where he tired before my arm and my patience! And next door is Natalie who we partied with plenty of times when we lived together a year ago, and who now lives with, amongst others, Juno’s sister Phoebe. Lots of fun was to be had with the two dogs, especially when splashing them from Natalie’s pool and watching the pair of them try everything possible to get the balls out of the pool short of going in themselves. Strange creatures.

The island is full of other strange animals too, and I suppose I couldn’t leave them out of any discussion about the personalities that draw me to the island. There is my favourite spider on the island: the golden orb weaver. A huge and elegant looking arachnid with bright golden bands around its knees, not particularly venomous, but you would certainly notice its fangs sinking into your skin! There are also a couple of species of bat on the island, the large fruit bats which can be heard swooping over head or screeching in the trees where they roost, and a smaller bat which likes to hide in the eaves of old abandoned buildings such as an old gun entrenchments or powder store up on the hill. Also up there are the always fascinating koalas. It’s not uncommon to see them on the island as it houses the largest wild colony of the animals of an estimated 300. The ones that stand out from this visit where a pair I found sitting half way up a tree, and managed to get very close to. I climbed up the cliff face and sat on a rock so I was head height with the mother and four or five-month old Joey, and spent the best part of an hour just sitting and watching. The baby was fascinated by me, but the mother wasn’t so sure. She would steer him away with a firm hand on his shoulders until he was round the other side of the tree branch, but the cheeky little one would clamber and wriggle and sneak round until he could sit and watch me again. Eventually the mother gave up trying to stop him, and they both sat there nibbling on leaves whilst I watched and enjoyed their sedentary company.

I spent some time with other animals as well, which I hadn’t really considered when I was there before: the island’s horses. Danielle was working on a ranch, so one day I joined her and the other workers on a ride out across the island. I hadn’t been on a horse for many years, and think I was probably less than graceful as I struggled to make the beast move, or stop, or just try and hold on without getting too injured in the process. It was certainly a couple of days before I could sit down comfortably afterwards! I’m sure there must be a better design for a saddle, one which takes the male anatomy into consideration; or maybe I just need to learn how to sit in it properly.

It was a great way to see the island, going down a few tracks I hadn’t seen before and then arriving at the end of the long Horseshoe bay beach and pelting down it clinging on to my horse and desperately trying to steer him away from the trees with low branches he seemed intent on trying to brain me with. After the run, we cooled off in the sea, riding our swimming horses bare-back, listening to them snorting and playing in the surf and dodging the occasionally floating accident.

A couple of nights later we were all back down that end of the beach, sitting round a huge fire – drinking, dancing, fire spinning and celebrating. Day or night, the beach is a great place to relax and so it was with a modicum of inebriation I spent another great night on the island with my friends.

I hope you like the photos I took on this visit to Magnetic Island

I’ve been asked many times why I like Australia so much and why I want to live here, and I struggle to put it in to words every time. The country holds so many attractions to me, the mystery of the vast expanse that I have yet to explore, the friendliness of the people I have met at every town I have visited, the honest and forthright attitude of the society, the fact that it isn’t Britain – there are truly too many reasons to possibly mention.

And now I was back in the country I had been missing I had to decide where to spend those first few weeks. It wasn’t really a decision I had much of a part in – my heart led me straight back to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains where I had spent so many happy weeks throughout my previous year here. It was easy to settle back into life at The Flying Fox Backpackers, chopping wood for the evening fires, chatting to the people visiting from all sorts of places, and exploring the surrounding countryside. There is no other time I feel more content than when walking through the bush, and the Blue Mountains has some exquisite national parks in which to seek out Australian nature.

The area around Katoomba is a great place to get a taste the New South Wales bushland, as the walks are accessible, and the wildlife easy to spot. Around Echo Point there are sulphur crested and black cockatoos, rosellas, and the hugely vocal lyre birds, beautiful rock formations, there were waterfalls after the recent rain, and plenty of skinks, bearded dragons and other lizards basking on the hot rocks.

One day I was exploring a national park further down the mountain at Springwood. I had been walking down a path for a while when I saw a sign indicating the location of a pool someway off over the rocks – so away I scrambled. It may not have been entirely the correct route I was taking, or if it was this certainly wasn’t the path for the unadventurous. I made my way under, round, and through the trees covering the track; hopped from rock to rock, and edged closer to a rock wall I presumed must have held the pool. I was close before too long, and saw a huge lizard on a rock in front of me, so slowly squatting down I levelled the camera and made to take the photo. Then I saw something bright moving in the branches to me left – a snake!

I had seen snakes in Australia before, but never an unidentified one quite so close to my face. It was definitely within striking distance if it was so inclined to have a nip at me. Not so big that it would try and have me for dinner, but in a nation where a spider the size of a pea will still try and have a go at bringing you down – and potentially succeed – I didn’t want to take any chances.

So I froze.

There was not a lot more I could do! But he didn’t seem to be bothered by me, so as I felt more comfortable I started to enjoy his company. I took some photos, I must admit I even chatted to it for a while, and then when he began to slide off into the leaves I also made my decision to move on and resume my search for the pool.

I felt good that the snake was behind me, however pleased I was that I had actually seen it, and quickly put a few more meters between us and climbed over the rock wall. My heart still pumping from the adrenaline, I bounded across a few big boulders and was soon at the pool’s edge looking for yabbies and other small critters. I got close to the surface of the water and started peering in, trying to get glimpses under the rocks at the edge where the pretty little creatures like to hide, and in seconds realised I had moved my face within inches of another snake half hidden in the water! It was the same as the last one, but now I knew they were not only fond of lurking at head-height in trees but also were semi-aquatic hunters as well. His head was high out of the water and his gaze was locked with mine. I slowly backed away and sat atop the boulder I had clambered over, knowing that there was at least one snake behind me and one in front.

I gradually relaxed again, and took the time to take some photos of my new friend and enjoyed the sun and the serenity of the pool for a while. I had been sitting still for so long the wildlife was starting to come out all around me. The crimson rosellas and currawongs were close by in the trees around the pool, there were several skinks sunning themselves on the rocks, and I saw a water dragon scuttle over a boulder next to me and perch across the top. But I wasn’t the only one to spot him. At once I saw a flicker of yellow and green and a third snake dropped out of the tree above me, practically on top of me and sprung for the little water dragon. My heart was in my mouth! I hadn’t seen or heard this one approach, and suddenly it was in my lap and on the hunt! I felt claustrophobic despite the vastness of the area I was sitting in, convinced that every rock concealed a potentially dangerous critter, and knowing I was alone and far from the track. That it when I decided to leave, and ever so cautiously, inspecting every branch several times to ensure it wasn’t an animal before moving underneath them or pushing them aside I made my way back to the trail.

With renewed vigour and a rediscovered feeling of security I continued along the track for a few more hours, chasing yellow-tailed black cockatoos, huge lizards, dragon flies, and all sorts of birds – but at least partly to my relief I didn’t see any more snakes that day.

When I returned to the hostel I spoke to my herpetologist friend who helped me identify the snakes I had spent the majority of the afternoon with; A harmless tree snake that probably couldn’t even puncture my skin if it tried. I can’t wait to see them again, and next time I hope I won’t wet myself!

Pictures from those first few weeks, including plenty of the snakes are in my Blue Mountains gallery