Howe delightful

By BILL McCULLOCH

There it was, dead ahead above the instrument panel, rising sheer out of the ocean like some scene from a fantasy: Lord of the Rocks, the tallest rock spire in the world.

Balls Pyramid, the 551m-high tip of a gigantic stoneberg, loomed nearer as I unhooked the flipper window of our Cessna 172. The slipstream held it open and threatened to take my arm away as Stan, our pilot, cruised slower now around the almost razor-edged monolith. Awe was definitely being inspired. Camera half out the window, its straps tightly wound around my wrist, I fired away. It was the final day of a two-week stay on Lord Howe Island, 23km to the north, 700km northeast of Sydney, and it was exciting stuff.

Before long we were back over the island, formed aeons ago by volcanic eruption and listed by World Heritage for its rare collection of plants, birds and marine life and for its exceptional natural beauty. The former had become part of our everyday environment while the latter had countless times blown us away and now, from the air, both were put into stunning perspective.

We tracked its precipitous cliffs with their colony of hundreds of red-tailed tropic birds nesting on ledges or wheeling above the crashing waves. We gazed down at its white-sand beaches and on forests of Kentia palm on the steep sides of its twin mountains. Finally descending, we skimmed low over the crystal waters of its lagoon, aqua blending spectacularly into turquoise, for the gentlest of landings.

Yet it was tranquillity, not excitement, which had drawn my partner, Kerrie, and me back to Lord Howe for a second stay, uninterrupted by the sound of a mobile. Where neon is a dirty word, the payoff for a night-time walk is the brightest of starscapes imaginable.

Escapism and Lord Howe are longtime bedfellows. Long before the airstrip was built in 1974, Catalina flying boats made the trip from Sydney's Rose Bay and landed on the lagoon. Old photographs in the recently opened museum show excited visitors being brought ashore to be greeted by the owners of the island's guesthouses. It was another world.

Fortunately, much of that world's charm remains. When your Dash 8 lands, the meet-and-greet tradition is maintained before you're spirited away to your accommodation, with maybe a quick tour of the island thrown in as orientation.

The guesthouses survive, along with newer resorts, two of them decidedly upmarket with fine restaurants. We again chose a relatively inexpensive, self-contained holiday apartment in a complex of two called Waimarie with arguably the most peaceful ambience and the best views available, looking at the lagoon and Mts Gower and Lidgbird.

The only thing tropical about the island - apart from an appearance which leaves Bora Bora in the shade - is the ocean current that reaches down from the tropics, just far enough to surround it. Its waters, protected by the world's southernmost coral reef, teem with marine life.

Needless to say, diving, snorkelling, coral-viewing and fishing are big here.

Pilot Stan's sister, Rosemary Fenton, drew the Australian mainland's attention to Lord Howe by becoming Miss Australia and later by marrying prominent politician Ian Sinclair.

The Sinclairs live on the island, which is no stranger to celebrities, probably lured in part by the thought of a media-free environment. Dame Judi Dench was there over Christmas and we came upon Judy Davis and Colin Friels in one of the two small boutiques. Mel Gibson and family have enjoyed the laidback, away-from-it-all feel.

Summer is bliss. With balmy days of around 25-30C and pleasant water temperatures creating a summer idyll, even the couch-bound turn active. The island has no public transport and rental cars are limited so, for most, experiencing a motor vehicle from the inside only happens when your hosts drive you to dinner and restaurant staff drive you home again (another island tradition). That means "On your bike!"

Out riding, an island speed limit of 2 km/h ensures that the occasional passing car sounds are muted and that roads - many of them peaceful, sun-dappled tunnels of arching foliage where beautiful white terns and their chicks nest trustingly above your passing helmet - are safe.

The visitor limit of 393 at any one time means they're also never crowded and often seem wonderfully private. And the island friendliness is infectious.

When you pass someone, you wave or say g'day.

Almost all of the riding is easy if you've checked out the island topography in relation to your accommodation before booking. One rueful couple staying on the ridge planned each day around the hill they had to climb at the end of it, while the aptly named Top Shop is somewhere you go only if you really want the freshest fruit and vegetables. And don't try cycling back down Middle Beach Road, veges or no veges.

Otherwise, it's a breeze. Ride to one of the island stores for groceries or to Blinkys Beach for a surf. Park your bike at the beach everyone just calls Ned's - no one will steal it - and watch the afternoon fish-feeding or the muttonbirds crashing noisily through the palms to their nests at nightfall.

Push those pedals to the picturesque nine-hole golf course with its honour payment system and one hole skirting the lagoon, or to Old Settlement Beach to snorkel in the rock pools. You're unlikely to raise a sweat. But if all that seems a little too energetic, lazing on your own private beach - there are miles of them along the lagoon alone - is the way to go.

And laze we did, reading books in the beachdome that I of the fair skin had been given, wallowing in the shallows or gazing at the panorama. .

We'd break for coffee or a great lunch a few seconds away at Blue Peters, the casual local hangout, or for lighter fare at the museum's Coral Cafe. For a delicious muffin, we'd head for the post office where Peter Phillips, its aircraft enthusiast postmaster, doubles as barista of the tiny Plane Crazy Cafe inside.

On the other hand, you may want more. There are many gentler tracks but if you're fairly fit, try walking up Malabar Hill and be rewarded by seeing the tropic birds up close and almost personal. For a real challenge, climb Mt Gower, eight hours of guided walk up and back.

If the car seems an endangered island species, so, until fairly recently, was the rare woodhen, pushed to the point of extinction before a successful rescue operation restored numbers. We were surprised and thrilled to find a curious woodhen family visited the garden almost daily.

At a restaurant one night, a worse-for-wear group swearing never again after a day on Mt Gower exhaustedly exclaimed, "But we saw a woodhen!" We didn't have the heart to tell them.

Case notes:


Getting there:


There are no direct flights between New Zealand and Lord Howe Island.

Flight Centre is offering Auckland to Lord Howe Island (return) from $1258 (plus taxes) flying economy class on Qantas via Sydney.

Where to stay:


Waimarie Holiday Apartments:
Accommodation booked directly through hosts Jim and Mavis Fitzgerald.

Ph 0061 2 6563 2057,

fax 0061 2 6563 2138 or email waimav@aol.com.

Bicycles are available on site.

Where to eat:


Capella Lodge and Arajilla provide excellent dining experiences, with the Pinetrees Resort only marginally behind. Several guesthouses have restaurants which run regular island fish fries, and one has a Chinese restaurant. There are no hotels on the island but the bowls club and restaurants are licensed.

Scenic excursions:


Lord Howe Air takes you to Balls Pyramid and then around Lord Howe Island (50 minutes) for $150 an adult, children half fare (0061 2 6563 2087).

Boats do the same (4 hours) for less.

Advisory:


The island has no cellphone service.

Golfers should take plenty of one-dollar coins for the ball machine as the golf clubhouse is often unattended.

www.lordhoweisland.info