The great Australian rip-off

My friend insists on budgets: how much we need to live on each month; how much a holiday is going to cost; paying off our crazy car deal; affording home improvements back in the UK. As we prepared to come and live in Australia, in late 2009, he researched comparative costs of living in the UK and Australia, and concluded that living here would be about ten per cent cheaper. I don't know which websites he used, but they were as much use as a chocolate teapot.

On our very first day in Brisbane, we wandered around the centre of town, drifting into a bottle shop and a bookshop in Albert Street. In the first, we found a favourite wine for roughly twice what we used to pay at home: in the second, our faces fell further as we picked up interesting books and then looked at the price labels superimposed on the RRPs of foreign titles. 'We are going to have to revise our budget,' pronounced my friend gravely. I was time-zoned out and sandfly*-ravaged from the Botanic Gardens, and suddenly felt a little teary.

Two years later, I would like to share two lists with you. The first is of goods and services we have found to be cheaper in Australia than in the UK:

Prawns; Audi car servicing; tax advice/accounting; extra virgin olive oil; lightbulbs; fuel

Here's the 'more expensive' list:

Tickets for concerts and sporting events; cinema tickets; wine; many foods (notably cheese, fish, certain vegetables, processed foods); eating out; books; internet provision; mobile phone tariffs; computers; clothes; shoes, especially trainers; hairdressing and hair products; cosmetics; car hire insurance; house contents insurance; bank charges; credit card interest; 'middlemen' charges; rents; removal costs; gas and electricity; new cars; parking in cities; window cleaning; hotel accommodation; tattoos; penalty fines; cut flowers; flights to Europe; healthcare, especially dentistry; entrance fees to tourist attractions...

Some of the above need qualification. Certain food items may be more expensive, but we have never eaten better in our lives. On the other hand, some hoteliers rub salt in the wound by demanding full payment upfront 30 days before you're going to step over the threshold. You win some, you lose some: you pays your money and you takes your choice.

Australia is a very wealthy country, mainly because of vast mineral deposits that are exported to hungry customers in Asia. It therefore survived the Global Financial Crisis relatively unscathed by comparison with most other developed economies. But Australians don't feel well off. They complain about the cost of mortgages or rents and petrol and utilities and food and many other essentials, yet they earn good money, compared with Europe.

Today some light is thrown on this in the form of a report – Price Drivers: Five Case Studies in How Government is Making Australia Unaffordable – by the Centre for Independent Studies (CIS), who describe themselves thus:

'...the leading independent public policy 'think-tank' within Australasia. The CIS is actively engaged in supporting a market economy and a free society under limited government where individuals can prosper and fully develop their talents. Through positive recommendations on public policy and by encouraging debate amongst leading academics, politicians, journalists and the general public, the CIS aims to make sure good ideas are heard and seriously considered.'

Read this report at www.cis.org.au/images/stories/policy-monographs/pm-125.pdf. It is particularly interesting with regard to bananas and cars.

During tropical cyclone Yasi earlier this year, vast numbers of banana plants were flattened in Northern Queensland. Prices shot up to $14 a kilo (from $2-3 beforehand); and so it was that those growers whose plants were still standing profited enormously. Many people boycotted bananas, which are usually in great demand. Australia is by no means a major world producer, but bananas are big in Queensland – in every sense. Residents of this state are not nicknamed banana benders for nothing**. And growers' interests are represented forcefully by none other than the Federal Member for Kennedy, Bob Katter (see Limbo dancers, August 2010; And then there were two, September 2010).

In such a time of dire shortage, the Australian government could have bought bananas from the Philippines, a relatively close neighbour, so that their citizens would not be deprived of their favourite fruit. But that was not possible. Bananas, you see, cannot be imported under the terms of the Quarantine Act 1908, being of 'biological material', unless there is no risk in doing so. One of the authors of the Price Drivers report, Dr Oliver Hartwich, believes that, at the very least, the other, non-banana-growing states of the Commonwealth could import bananas without any risk. Instead of paying the price of such a protectionist policy, Queenslanders should be able to choose whether to support the growers or reduce their food bills by buying imported, much cheaper bananas like the rest of the world does.

On the other hand, bananas coming from Northern Queensland don't earn air miles. And today, I notice, they are back to their pre-Yasi price, if not lower. And do farmers not need supporting in this era of great mining hoo-hahs?

Australia protected its apple growers in the same way until this year, when it had to bow to a World Trade Organisation ruling that import restrictions in place since the 1920s represented a trade barrier to New Zealand apples rather than a genuinely protective measure against fire blight.

But never was Australian protectionism so forceful as in defence of its car manufacturers. There is a five per cent import tax on all foreign cars; the luxury car tax (LCT) adds 33 per cent above the LCT threshold (currently $57,500); so-called Australian Design Rules deter foreign car manufacturers from converting their cars to meet standards here; and private importation is virtually impossible as a result of good ol' Aussies rules (the vehicle must have been 'owned and used' for a year before importation, to mention but one hurdle).

What this amounts to is that Australians pay 20-30 per cent more for a fairly average family car than if they were buying the same car in Europe or America. Curiously, Australian-made cars sell in the US for two-thirds of what they cost here.

I care more for books than bananas, or cars. These three books cost me just over $100 in total, which at today's exchange rate is just over £64. Had these books been published in the UK, they would probably have cost about £40 (even less on Amazon), but they are only available here. I had to bite the bullet.

The Copyright Act 1968 states that, should an Australian publisher acquire copyright of a book within 30 days of its release overseas, book retailers may not import foreign-published editions of the book. Readers here have to pay whatever the Australian publisher dictates and cannot buy what would almost certainly be cheaper imported versions. This had the original intention of encouraging Australian readers to buy works by Australian writers, but a person's reasons for choosing a book don't often include substitutability options.

We make a list of books we want and then order all other than uniquely Australian titles through Amazon.co.uk, who, having cottoned on to an Australian demand, are offering free international delivery (on orders of £25 and above) until the end of next year. And some Aussies, who are nothing if not resourceful, use the fact that they don't pay import duty on items costing less than $1,000, to bring in supplies from abroad. One of my friend's colleagues imported bicycle components from all over the world (but mostly from the USA) and assembled a bike for $1,800 that would otherwise have cost him $5,000 to buy whole in Oz.

Within a couple of months of our dispiriting bottle-shop experience in Albert Street, we were pointed in the direction of Dan Murphy's, a big-box liquor store that keeps its prices down by buying in bulk and sourcing many of its wines directly from overseas. Owned by Woolworths, Dan Murphy's sells very cheap wines and reasonably-priced fine wines, thus saving us from both penury and despondency.

Australians and non-Australians seem to agree that it is very expensive to live here. Those of us who are temporary residents may have a lifestyle the envy of friends back home, but we do worry those friends won't be able to afford to come see Australia.

* Under the heading Biting midges in Brisbane on their website, Brisbane City Council say, 'midges are often called sandflies but not every sandfly is a midge. Sandfly is a common name for a number of types of small biting insects'

** Urban Dictionary's definition of banana bender: alternate name for a resident of Queensland, Australia, where bananas grow and people with nothing better to do put a bend in them


This post was last updated on 2 March 2012

Crazy days of summer

Raindrops keep falling on the pool. I last saw the sun on Sunday morning, rather appositely.

Today is Wednesday, and I should have been at Eumundi Market, near Noosa. I don't know if anyone will be there. In Brisbane, steady rain has fallen incessantly out of grey Tupperware since 6am. It is now 1.57pm.

I hope all the people who fretted about the water release from Lake Wivenhoe a couple of weeks ago will sleep easier tonight. Under their doonas. It's currently 18C* in the city, 11 below average. Some southern and western towns in Queensland are as much as 15 below average. Coolangatta on the Gold Coast had its coldest December day yesterday for 46 years. And why? Cold air coming from the south, big cloud cover and wind chill.

Yesterday a friend and I went for lunch on the Bay. We doggedly sat outside on the deck at The Lighthouse on Cleveland Point (view from, above) and wished we'd worn more clothes. Even the tufty tops (Crested Pigeons) looked miserable, their crests blown all dishevelled.

I saw two things I've never seen at Cleveland Point before, the first being a Grey-tailed Tattler.

I drove almost 65km for lunch not only because Cleveland Point is a lovely spot but because we need to put kilometres on the clock. Novated leasing is a way of financing the purchase of a car. You do it through your company, as a consequence of which there are 'tax advantages'. Another consequence – of the loopier kind – is that, having predicted how many kilometres you will drive in a year in the car as part of the enormous equation to calculate your monthly payments, if you fall short you will be liable for thousands of dollars of back-tax at the end of the financial year. I have heard of people driving from Brisbane to Sydney or Adelaide, or driving round the city for hours on end day after day, or lending their car to others to take on a trip – and all because they've got to reach the lower limit of their predicted annual kilometerage. So, in a nation that has the highest per capita carbon emissions in the world, the government incentivizes people to drive further and use more fuel and enlarge their carbon footprint.

More disturbing than the weather outlook or our crazy car deal is the news from Japan this morning that the whaling fleet has left port for the Southern Ocean with the intention of slaughtering 900 whales over the next three months. All in the name of 'science', of course. After Sea Shepherd's attempts to thwart them last year – the conservation group estimates they saved 863 whales and sent the Japanese whalers home six weeks early – the whaling boats are putting extra security precautions in place, funded by the Earthquake Recovery Fund. How thankful I am that I didn't donate. I don't eat Japanese food or buy Japanese goods either. And I will never go there.

Japan ignores polite protest and reasoned argument: direct action is the only way. See http://www.seashepherd.org/uk/uk.html or http://www.seashepherd.org/australia/

Also announced today was the fact that the government has awarded a ten-year contract to broadcast Australia's international broadcast service, Australia Network, to the state-owned ABC rather than Sky News, partly owned by News Corp. The alternative would have been akin to the BBC World Service going to BSkyB, a proposition so preposterous and thoroughly unacceptable and galling to those of us with UK experience of Murdoch's odious grip on the media as to induce hysterical outpourings. But the monstrous magnate is Australian, isn't he? So, all they seem to be worried about here is whether or not the decision was taken as part of a power struggle between Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd. See http://newmatilda.com/2011/12/07/sky-fell-rudd

I haven't even brushed my hair today. It's a day for lots of layers and cabin socks (and the penguin blanket later, I suspect). And numerous cups of tea and sweet treats. And blogging.

On the way home yesterday I passed a Traffic Signal Box that I hadn't previously managed to snap. I'm sure one of them must be screaming, inwardly at least.

* The temperature did not rise further and today was Brisbane's coldest December day since 1888

This post was updated at 9pm on 7 December 2011

The South Burnett: wine and peanuts

The South Burnett is to weather forecasts in Queensland as South Utsire is to the shipping forecast back in the UK. It's a name you're very familiar with but you don't necessarily know where it is. I found out as I planned a long weekend in the Bunya Mountains.

Kingaroy is the main town of the South Burnett region and peanut capital of Australia*. Peanuts have been grown on a significant scale here since the 1920s. The red basaltic soils and serried young plants are very photogenic. We also have the fridge magnet and postcards.

Peanuts – aka ground nuts or monkey nuts – aren't nuts; they're legumes (beans). You can see Kingaroy's massive (43-metre-high) peanut silos miles away – and they overshadow everything. There have been numerous damaging fires in the town's history: in 1951 the silos, bag shed, peanuts and machinery were destroyed in a dramatic blaze.

Right opposite the imposing silos is the Kingaroy Information, Art and Heritage Precinct. This encompasses the visitor information centre, the Kingaroy Heritage Museum and an art gallery. The museum has all things peanutty, including an old harvester, and when we were there the art gallery had an exhibition of sculptures made from machinery parts.

What about the navy beans, I hear you cry. We need to talk about navy beans. I am not the only one who didn't know what they were. When I first searched for haricot beans in Australia for my lamb and bean stew and multi-bean salad, I was met by a series of blank faces. I was offered cannelloni beans, which are bigger and related to haricot beans but not the same thing. Navy beans are the same as haricot beans but I was not offered those. I have never seen navy beans in the supermarkets or The Nut Market in James Street Market which sells beans that other shops do not. So, where do they all go? Baked beans is the answer, according to my learned friend (and bean expert). They get their name from the fact that the US navy used to carry them as a food staple: they don't go bad and they're very nutritious.

Kingaroy is almost as famous for one of its pollies as its peanuts. Johannes (Joh) Bjelke-Petersen was Queensland's longest-serving Premier (1968-87) and is still much talked about in these parts, as much with loathing as approbation. Born in New Zealand to Danish immigrant parents, Bjelke-Petersen moved to Kingaroy when he was two. As Premier, he presided over a period of massive growth in Queensland's population (spurred by his abolition of inheritance tax), building and infrastructure. Airports, bridges, dams, mines, power stations, roads, tourism (resorts and hotels) and universities all bear his hallmark. But he was no friend of protesters, Aborigines, the media or the Opposition, and, although supposedly in favour of strong law and order, a number of his ministers were jailed later for corruption. If, in your travels, you wonder how an eyesore could ever have been built, chances are it was because of special legislation passed by B-P's government to exempt its developer from local government planning regulations.

On a much more satisfactory note, wine production in South Burnett dates back to the mid-1850s. Today, Clovely Estate in Moffatdale is one of Queensland's largest vineyards, with 430 acres. There are grapes (and goats) in the centre of Kingaroy. We didn't rate a lunchtime white we tried but enjoyed a reasonable local red with a steak at the Broadway Hotel (Ruby's Restaurant) in Kingaroy Street the night before we left. This was the cheapest dinner we've ever eaten in Australia: $56 for two rump steaks, chips and salad and a bottle of Bellbird Cab Sav seemed like a real bargain. The next morning we tasted at Moffatdale Ridge cellar door and liked a sparkling cuvee, a Semillon and a Cab Sav enough to buy a couple of bottles of each.

(Shame about the yellow monstrosity.)

We stayed a few kilometres north of Kingaroy on the Booie Range. Hillview Cottages promised a great view and delivered.

We stayed in a former church that was once in the valley below but moved up in the world in 1996 and was beautifully renovated a few years ago. The welcome was warm and the atmosphere totally relaxed.

A working farm, Hillview was complete with visiting grey mare Connie, Cookie the German short-haired Pointer, and April, 'the mouser', who was more aloof, being a cat.

The first evening, I paid for my beer-o'clock gazing at all before me with the first mozzie bites of the summer, but it was a small price. A couple of days later, Hillview was a hard place to leave on another lovely morning on the Booie.

We headed north on what was still the Bunya Highway. The first item of interest was an unusual crop – Dubiosia, or Corkwood. It is said that Aborigines used to throw the crushed leaves into ponds, whereupon fish would be unable to swim and float to the surface as easy prey. These days, the plant's component hyoscine is used in antispasmodic drugs to treat stomach cramps and motion sickness, and as a surgery pre-med. Tonnes are exported to pharma companies in Europe and Asia.

We passed through Memerambi, where our little church originated, and Wooroolin. Wondai was a pretty little place.

Murgon is the gateway to the South Burnett wine region proper. The name derives from Aboriginal words meaning 'lily covered pond'. There were some fine lilies, but also not-so-fine litter, and we quickly moved on to Moffatdale. I sometimes have too-high expectations of small towns along our way. Some are victims of their own publicity: one that shall remain nameless is described in Touring the South Burnett 2011-12, an otherwise useful brochure from tourist information offices, as 'an appealing boutique town', but I don't think they mean the shops.

While travelling the Murgon-Barambah road, we detoured to look at Lake Barambah, created in 1988 by the Bjelke-Petersen Dam. Caramba! What a bleak place. You won't 'Discover the Magic' of South Burnett here. You can drive across the earth dam, which is mildly interesting, and we spotted Cormorants and Black-winged Stilts, but the often sterile aspect of a man-made lake was never more in evidence than in this vain attempt to sell tourism and recreation. Instead, I looked upwards.

My desire to travel the Kilcoy-Murgon road so as not to repeat any section of our route was thwarted by an unexpected 80-odd-kilometre stretch of unmade-up-ness. So, back to the Burnett Highway. We inadvertently stopped to eat our lunch by the southeastern extremity of Lake Barambah. Dead drowned tree stumps and abundant flies did nothing to change my opinion.

We continued on to Nanango and from there to Yarraman. Tinkling Bell Miners soothed our second wait to negotiate the D'Aguilar Highway roadwork. From Kilcoy we turned south along the Esk-Kilcoy Road and the Wivenhoe-Somerset Road, and then east up Northbrook Parkway and down Mount Glorious Road through the Brisbane Forest to home. This route enabled us to see Lake Somerset and Somerset Dam for the first time, a final flurry of birdlife, the best view of Lake Wivenhoe imaginable and, last but not least, a Carpet Python that had a lucky escape (thanks to my friend's adept swerving) just a stone's throw from Brisbane.

It seems only fitting, however, to sign off with the best name we came across on this trip.

* Australia produces only 0.2 per cent of the world's peanuts. China is top, followed by India and the USA. Queensland produces 95 per cent of Australia's peanuts

This post was last updated on 18 December 2011

Bunya Bunya Bunya

Years ago I was in the South of France on an overcrowded beach not far from St Tropez. Every now and again, a young man would walk along, rather like an ice cream seller in a cinema, shouting what sounded like, 'banya pommes: banya, banya, banya; pommes, pommes, pommes'. It could have been 'Ban the bomb' or 'pain aux pommes', but I never found out because I never bought what he was offering. Bizarrely, I remembered him as we drove to the Bunya Mountains for a long weekend.

This National Park is Queensland's oldest, dating from 1908. It has both wet and dry rainforest, open eucalypt woodland, and grassy interruptions known as 'balds'. Deep in the forest you'll find the world's largest stand of Bunya Pines, with their distinctive domed tops, as well as rare and threatened plants and animals. We saw creatures we've never seen before on our Oz travels.

Conifers are thought to have replaced big ferns about 200 million years ago. The mountains are much more recently formed – 30 million years ago – and are the remains of a shield volcano. Lava flows cooled into basalt, which was eroded into the fertile red soils of the South Burnett.

The Bunya Pine produces cones the size of footballs that contain edible seeds called nuts. The Aborigines of the Bunya Mountains and the Blackall Ranges to the northeast used to invite many other Aboriginal peoples to join them in celebrating the Bunya nut harvest. These 'Bunya festivals' could last a while: they provided a chance to meet up with old friends, sort out disagreements and share stories. Young Bunya nuts would be eaten raw while mature ones were roasted over a fire and the kernels ground into a meal that was then used to bake cakes. Nut roasts were the main source of food rather than hunted animals.

The last Bunya festival was held sometime in the late 1800s, when white settlement was invasive enough to interfere with Aboriginal pathways and practices. With settlers came timber-getters keen to get their hands on red cedar and other tall trees in these mountains.

The National Park is in a remote part of the Great Dividing Range, about three hours from Brisbane. We took a slightly less obvious route than the quickest, via Dalby. Turning off the Warrego Highway* on to the Brisbane Valley Highway, we coffeed in Fernvale, 8km south of the Wivenhoe Dam and one of the towns whose names I associate with the Flood earlier this year. There's a wide main drag bordered by traditional Queenslanders as well as commercial outlets.

My route took us up the western shore of Lake Wivenhoe via Esk to join the D'Aguilar Highway to Yarraman. Landslides severed this road where it climbs the Balfour Range after the Big Wet last summer and major roadwork continues. Traffic is currently held for half-hour stretches in each direction prior to single-lane access through the massive landscaping operation.

If you look carefully you will see an Aussie bloke baring his chest when he spotted me taking the picture above. Hmm.

Yarraman stands at the top end of the New England Highway, which we briefly took south as far as Maidenwell. There we gave a lift to a thin man who had lost his driving licence and was walking to Kingaroy, which was far enough away when our ways parted to render him thinner still. For us, a steep and winding road climbed up to the Bunyas. It was unsealed for a few kilometres but is fine for those without a 4x4.

At the eastern end of the National Park is the Dandabah visitor area. Red-necked Wallabies, used to campers and trampers (bushwalkers), hang out there. They're small-scale and pretty and soft-furry.

We chose to walk the Scenic Circuit, which is 4km long and estimated to take one hour 20 to complete. Needless to say, it took us much longer, but for the best of reasons. We realised from the outset that there was more bird activity than on any previous forest walk. We not only heard Eastern Whipbirds and Green Catbirds but saw them, too. The Whipbird is a very vocal yet elusive creature, but I saw one sitting on a branch and could clearly see its throat moving while it was whipcracking away. The Catbird's extraordinary cry – a cross between a cat yowling and a baby wailing – was all the more striking as one sat directly above me on the path. In our very own Bird World we also saw Satin Bowerbirds (a male and his hareem, below), Yellow-throated Scrubwrens, a Red-backed Fairy-Wren, Rufus Fantails (below but one), a Pheasant Coucal (below but two), Australian King Parrots and Crimson Rosellas.

In the creeks and pools we spotted the enormous tadpoles of the Great Barred Frog, whose fairly loud 'wark' we mistook for an Aussie bloke nearby. In fact, there were few other walkers, to our delight.

Some Bunya and Hoop pines were massive, and one Strangler Fig so huge the track passed through it.

Beneath the towering pines were many varieties of fern, vine and Strangler Fig tangles, and familiar (European) stinging nettles as well as Stinging Trees.

Other watery delights included the Festoon Falls and what looked suspiciously like autumn leaves.

We stopped for lunch at Pine Gorge Lookout. Here, as well as fine views over Bunya domes, was a 'bald', a naturally occurring grassland of temperate plants preferring cool conditions – it was about five degrees cooler up on the mountain than down in South Burnett – butting right up to the forest. Balds were once more numerous, but many were overrun by trees in the second half of the 20th century. This may have been because traditional Aboriginal land management techniques such as regular burning ceased during that time. In addition, some areas have unfortunately been built on by selfish view-seekers with a bob or two. All in all, the balds are now considered an endangered regional ecosystem.

There are rare grasses in these meadows: one blue grass grows only in the eastern Darling Downs. The open outlook offered far vistas to the northeast.

Although we were staying almost an hour away – north of Kingaroy on the Booie Range – we were drawn back to the Bunyas the next day, this time for a walk on the western side of the forest, starting out from Burton's Well.

Here the forest was mainly eucalyptus and was more open and sunny beneath the canopy. But we missed the fern-filled creeks and wondrous birdsong, and had to conclude that this walk was not as interesting as its wetter counterpart in the east. How glad I am that we persevered to the Ghinghion Lookout, however. By then the woodland included cacti and the stunning view induced a Leichhardt moment**.

Basking on the wooden lookout platform was a Monitor Lizard. We didn't want to disturb him – he was so relaxed – so we waited patiently for our turn on the platform. Eventually he wanted to be on his way: we stood aside so he could make his escape.

As you leave the National Park headed for Kingaroy, the landscape constantly evolves. Grass Trees dance in formation; blueish eucalypts contrast with their greener neighbours; spring flowers and smart grasses create colourful borders; and remnant Bottle Trees stand proud on the plains. A Dingo pup stood in the middle of the road as we came down the mountain.

The Queensland Government's park guide to the Bunya Mountains describes Bunya Pines as 'an age-old symbol of nourishment and of coming together in harmony'. Apparently, the tree symbolises home for many Australians, Queenslanders in particular, and even features in the foyer of Parliament House in Canberra. The largest remaining stand of these majestic trees is certainly a special place.

Post script: ticks (rather than leeches!) can be a problem in the Bunya Pine rainforest. They attach themselves to skin by burying their mouth in it, causing irritation and disease. So, apply insect repellent and wear a hat even though you're not walking in the sun. Make sure you check each other for ticks after your walk.

* Do not be confused: as with many main roads in Australia, the Warrego Highway has several guises – the Darren Lockyer Way (after recently retired Brisbane Broncos and Australia rugby league captain), the A2 and the 17

** see That man again, November 2011

This post was last updated on 6 December 2011