I've just returned to our temporary home and office (my uncle and aunt's house at Bendigo, north of Melbourne) after almost a week visiting family in Perth, Western Australia, the country's most isolated capital. And as much as I love it here, returning has been a shock to the system. While we had clear blue skies, daily sunshine and temperatures in the mid-high 20s (Celcius) in Perth for a week, here it's grey and cloudy, it feel like it hit 0 degrees last night (and probably did) and we're well and truly rugged up in the winter woolies, and stoking the fireplaces every night. While I was busy seeing my family and still worked every day, I somehow felt rejuventated and reinvigorated from being there. It's not only the weather, but it's the water everywhere - from the Swan River that meanders through the city, lake-like in parts, to the beautiful beaches of Cottesloe and Scarborough where we stayed a few days. There's a "lightness of being" (thanks, Milan Kundera) to Perth that you don't find in grey old Melbourne or even gorgeous Sydney, no matter how beautiful that city is - and I think it's because they're big, fast, polluted, high-density, traffic-heavy cities. There's a lot to be said for small, slow-paced, clean, low-rise, low-key, and laidback cities like Perth. I've spent a fair bit of time in them on this trip and I'm increasingly finding them more appealling. I think it's a shame that the vast majority of travellers to Australia have a few sights and a couple of cities on their lists to tick off - Uluru (Ayers Rock), the Great Barrier Reef (Qld) and Kakadu National Park (NT) tend to comprise the top three sights, and the big cities of Sydney and Melbourne mark the main entry and exit points. Far fewer foreign travellers make it to Australia's other cities, the highly underrated cities of Darwin, Adelaide and Perth. Yet I'm finding them far more alluring.

P.S. I've just written a story on Perth for Carlson Wagonlit's business travel magazine Connect; I'll let you know when it's out.

Do you check weather reports before you travel? And if you do and it's turned especially bad before you're due to travel, do you change your trip plans? I'm talking really nasty weather. Consistently dreadful, such as the snowfalls in the UK, the heaviest in 18 years, which have severely disrupted flights. Or the heatwave south-eastern Australia has endured over the last weeks which has caused power blackouts, transport disruptions, cancellation of outdoor events, and even deaths. Or the floods in Northern Queensland which in some areas have caused horrendous damage and led to the closure for several weeks of the Barkly Highway, the main route connecting Queensland to the Northern Territory. Do you adapt your plans at the last minute and change the destination or direction if you can? Or do you continue on and risk disruption to your itinerary, and possible disappointment? I've posted about this before on Best time to visit Australia? It may be summer, but don't head Down Under but it's something that continues to intrigue me. From what we've been observing on our travels in Australia, many people simply don't check weather reports in advance and continue with their original plans despite a change in weather. Some appear to be happy to go through the motions of being tourists, despite the miserable conditions, taking photos, doing tours, and, like the couple pictured in the distance of this photo, embarking on a long distance walk that would be far more enjoyable in better weather. What do you think? And how do you react to the onset of weather so terrible that it disrupts your travel plans? Or are you the type of traveller who tries to ensure you're not in that position in the first place? I'd love to know what you think and how you travel. And I'd love you to complete my poll (top right). Thanks.

A couple of weeks ago we were holed up writing in an apartment overlooking the sea at Glenelg beach, Adelaide, South Australia. While the days were warm and balmy, topping 30 degrees celcius, a little higher than the typical heavenly summer temperatures they get here, the evenings were deliciously cool. Cool enough to pop on a cardigan. We've been on the road in South Australia for a week or so now and it's a completely different story. We're making our way across the southern coast to Victoria and the Great Ocean Road, and it's been hot - scorching hot! And that's saying something coming from someone who lives in Dubai. It's so hot Australians are calling it a heatwave. The heatwave - and it's very definition (several days of continually high, above-average temperatures) - is being discussed endlessly by everybody it seems. These are record breaking temperatures. In the south here that means mid- to high-40s, but in some parts it's reached as high as 51. We listen to the radio a lot as we drive these days (we're bored with our music and podcasts; it's our third month on the road, after all) and the heatwave and ensuing chaos are all that's discussed: the affect upon health, cancellation of major sporting events, the threat of fires, total fire bans, the need to be 'fire ready', to put 'bushfire contingency plans' in place, train and tram cancellations and derailments (tracks are buckling), traffic light outrages, the accidental blackouts, and the planned power cuts. It's hell here. And in the midst of this chaos and suffering, Australia's 'power wholesaler', the National Electricity Market Management Company (NEMMCO), which controls the country's electricity usage decided to impose further planned power cuts (um, 'load-shedding') to 'protect the security of the grid'. (Interestingly, their share price subsequently went up.). NEMMCO has been providing the radio station with lists of suburbs that will lose power for 30 minute intervals, so they people can prepare themselves. The problem is that these people are calling the station and sending SMS messages complaining that they've already been without electricity for 24 hours. They are irate. It's like living in a third world country, they say. Now we're bored with the radio too. Whenever we go to the bakery, tourist office, service station, or check into a motel, we're asked how we're coping with the heat. We live in Dubai, we tell them, but how are you? A few years ago Australians would ask "Dubai, where's that?" We'd need to qualify it by saying "the Arabian Peninsula, Persian Gulf, that tiny country above Saudi Arabia and below Afghanistan and Iran". But now they not only know Dubai, they have family who work there, friends who have just been there, or are planning a trip themselves. "It's this hot all the time?" they ask. "Yep, plus there's high humidity, up to 90%. Our glasses fog up every time we leave an air-conditioned building." "Well if we can handle this..." they say. How things have changed. This time I'm not talking about the weather.

How well do you research the best times of year to travel to places before you buy your tickets? I'm asking because I was astonished to see Queensland's Great Barrier Reef listed as a place to visit now on a popular travel magazine's site. This is in fact the worst time of year to visit northern Queensland. Indeed, anywhere in northern Australia, known as 'the tropics' - which gives a hint why! It's currently the Wet season, which means it's sweltering, it's raining constantly, there are regular thunderstorms, high winds, strong chances of cyclones, and frequent flooding. And it's going to stay this way until April. Although the tourism bodies and tour operators still try to encourage travellers to visit now. In tropical Queensland for instance they market the season as 'The Green' rather than The Wet as they do in the Northern Territory and Western Australia. The Green (like The Wet) begins in early November with a period called The Build-Up when things start get steamy, there are spectacular lightening displays and the first monsoonal showers fall. The heaviest rains hit in January and February, when the humidity is at its highest, before easing off and stopping in April or May when The Dry begins. As a result of the rain, rivers are full, waterfalls flowing, and everything is lush and green. Some argue this is the best time to visit the NT's Kakadu National Park* for instance - they're probably right, but you must have flexible travel plans. Dirt roads turn to mud (if not raging rivers!) and are closed, and if you get trapped somewhere you could be stuck for days if not weeks. Keep in mind the official tourist season (which begins in April/May) ends in October: many resorts shut for the season, operators stop offering tours, and businesses let their staff take leave, staying open for shorter hours with a skeleton team. On the plus side, hotels staying open offer reduced rates. As for the rest of Oz ... while we're finding it lovely and warm here in the south right now, everybody is talking about the "heatwave", bushfires are blazing in SA and NSW, and because school kids are on summer holiday families take their annual breaks, so accommodation is fully booked and anything near the beach is expensive. As far as I'm concerned, the best times to visit anywhere in Australia are spring and autumn (fall). But before you buy your tickets, rather than following false advice, check Australia's reliable Bureau of Meteorology website.

* Take a look at the fascinating six seasons that the indigenous people of Kakadu follow here.

Pictured? Our vehicle on the Mereenie Loop, an outback track west of Alice Springs, just before we were caught in a flash flood in early November. Read about our adventure on Terry's blog Wide angles, wine and wanderlust in his post Staying calm in the eye of the storm, part 1 and part 2.