It was Australia Day. There would be tens of thousands of Aussies celebrating at the harbour. We were going to join them.
By the time we walked down to the Central Quay it was around 2pm. The sun was merciless, and canny locals to stay cool, were using any shade there was. We were full of curiosity, this being our first visit to anything like this. It made the twelfth look so very very stupid. Several different stages around the area were producing live bands playing all sorts of music. Street theatre was here, happy throngs and not a single drunk out of all these folk.
I went in search of water and found a lad cooking on a barby as part of a restaurants trade. The restaurant had put a barby and bar at the edge of their premises, obviously cashing in on the day. He had no water, but we got talking as we both recognised Belfast accents. Turns out, his dad used to teach in Belvoir Primary, a man called Mc Murtry or something like that.
The sun had been harsh on our tired bodies, so we went back to the Menzies for a siesta and shower, and then somewhere for dinner.
I’ve been at this for about 5 hours. We’ll post this and come back to Sydney tomorrow, with a possible link to photos and video.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Motor home diaries - 26th January
ODO reading 1725 Heading for Britz rentals for handover.
According to Google and other sources, the coastal route, which is the one we took, between Melbourne and Sydney is about 880 kms. We managed to do it in 1725, an average of 287 kms a day. We met some lovely people, saw some very interesting sights, ate some lovely food. Saw a kangaroo grazing at the roadside. Watched as all sorts of bird life winged their ways around us. Paddled in the Tasman Sea. Got the life scared out of us in a mountain. Went to bed early, constantly. Breathalysed. Bitten by Mossies. Loved every minute of it. I would definitely do it again, but as Trev said last night, the trip from Sydney to Brisbane can be even better. Who knows……..
As we had the van still we thought it might be good to drive to the hotel, check in and deposit our luggage. This we did, and it was a great idea, Daisey behaved impeccably, taking us straight there. A quick inspection of the room, bought for us as a Christmas present by Nicola and Trev, and off to get rid of the van. We’d seen the bed in the hotel, and we’d been using the van bed for a week. Would you not be in a hurry to exchange?
Up to Britz and the hand over was seamless and quick. We’d driven all that way without incident or accident. The $7650.00 bond would not be used this time.
The very pleasant lad in Britz gave us a choice of transport into Sydney (our own expense). We chose to travel by train. It was chocabloc with residents going into town to celebrate Australia Day. Our train stop was opposite the hotel on the other side of the road, 6 stops from where we boarded.
Naturally we went straight to the hotel for a closer examination. The room seemed massive, the bed, memory foam, was 6 foot wide. Bathroom was cushty, and we were on the 6th floor. No view, but as usual we wouldn’t be spending a lot of time in there anyway.
According to Google and other sources, the coastal route, which is the one we took, between Melbourne and Sydney is about 880 kms. We managed to do it in 1725, an average of 287 kms a day. We met some lovely people, saw some very interesting sights, ate some lovely food. Saw a kangaroo grazing at the roadside. Watched as all sorts of bird life winged their ways around us. Paddled in the Tasman Sea. Got the life scared out of us in a mountain. Went to bed early, constantly. Breathalysed. Bitten by Mossies. Loved every minute of it. I would definitely do it again, but as Trev said last night, the trip from Sydney to Brisbane can be even better. Who knows……..
As we had the van still we thought it might be good to drive to the hotel, check in and deposit our luggage. This we did, and it was a great idea, Daisey behaved impeccably, taking us straight there. A quick inspection of the room, bought for us as a Christmas present by Nicola and Trev, and off to get rid of the van. We’d seen the bed in the hotel, and we’d been using the van bed for a week. Would you not be in a hurry to exchange?
Up to Britz and the hand over was seamless and quick. We’d driven all that way without incident or accident. The $7650.00 bond would not be used this time.
The very pleasant lad in Britz gave us a choice of transport into Sydney (our own expense). We chose to travel by train. It was chocabloc with residents going into town to celebrate Australia Day. Our train stop was opposite the hotel on the other side of the road, 6 stops from where we boarded.
Naturally we went straight to the hotel for a closer examination. The room seemed massive, the bed, memory foam, was 6 foot wide. Bathroom was cushty, and we were on the 6th floor. No view, but as usual we wouldn’t be spending a lot of time in there anyway.
Motor home diaries - 25th January
ODO reading 1373kms Day 6 Heading for Wallancoota.
Okay, so we had travelled 293 kms yesterday, we really needed to put in the distances.
Ulludulla sounds like a Moslem preacher, but that is not the case. No, it’s a very nice large town on the bay, about 52 kms north of our last stop at Batemans. We called in there to get some info, but we were too early. At 9:40 the Info shop wouldn’t open for another 20 minutes. We’d bought and posted whatever postcards we were going to do that day, it was too early for that coffee, so we went on. We wanted to get to Berry, a market town in the country, to get some nice meat for the barby at our next stop. It was about 83 kms distant.
It was another lovely town, we noticed a few other caravans / motor homes parked up. They must have had the same idea as us.
Another bakery, this time for a savoury pie for me and a heavenly Chocolate Éclair for M. Kim. Two coffees from the same place and back to the van for elevenses! God, it can’t get much better than this. We’re so easy to please!
It was here that we noticed a distinct change on two fronts. It was very humid, first time we’d noticed this in Oz, and the land was getting a lot greener. The hills were even less steep and a lot less of them.
Our next stop was to be Wollongong, about 144 kms away. This is apparently the third largest town in NSW, and we would be on the freeway by-passing it. The idea was to get there, and into the local Info shop. I really wanted to wild camp since it was to be our last full night in the van. To be able to find a place where we could legally achieve this we’d have to find the info in town. There were only 2 turn offs to get from the freeway into the town, but we were not to know this. By the time we realised it was too late, we were on our way to Sydney. In 85 kms we would have completed our journey. After a change of plot we decided to drive straight into Sydney, drive across the iconic bridge, and try to find an info shop. Forty-five kilometres out a sign welcoming us to Sydney, stretched across the freeway. Kinda big city this I mused.
We got over the bridge without to much discomfort, even though the traffic was very heavy, but trying to find the info was proving to be a bridge to far. Pardon the pun. Daisey took us, first to what turned out to be an art gallery, second to Sydney arena, third to a dead end and then we gave up, as did our nerves. It’s kind of traumatic driving in a strange city in an equally strange country, in even more strange heat, the air con was working overtime.
After circumnavigating Sydeys’ CBD a couple of times we decided on a different tactic. We put caravan sites into Daisey and she found several, the nearest one being about 25 kms away. Off we went, tempers settled down, nerves loosened up, anticipation eyeing us hungrily.
Daisey led us up a very pleasant street towards our final destination. Through a recently built estate of a couple of dozen houses. “You have reached your destination” she cheerfully announced. “ My plums” I cheerfully announced. We were at the end of a Cul de sac overlooked by shiny new homes! OMG. I was cracking up. We found a shopping centre with a Post Office. They’ll know I thought. We marched in, told the young Japanese girl of our predicament and waited. “ I not able to help with you, one moment please, I git thee bos”. She disappeared out the back and came back with an……………Indian. “Oh holy flip” I thought. Or something similar. After a bit of explaining in great detail, his eyes lit up and told us we were about 5 minutes from it.
We had to go back onto the freeway, and it was about 1 click up the road.
The site, as was the shopping centre was called Bass Hill.
We drove in, and even though it was the eve of Australia day, there were plenty of spaces on this 1* site. For 35 dollars a sullen ould doll would let us share her block.
A quick recce revealed the showers, toilet, and barby areas were all pretty good, and , indeed clean.
This was to be our last night in the van. We’d have a barby with the meat from up country, some asparagus, salad and a bottle of wine. It was all very nice, even though M found 1 of the sausages a bit spicy.
M started to pack our bags after dinner, it wouldn’t be just as early a start tomorrow, but might as well get that bit out of the way.
We had a few drinks over a conversation about the previous week. It seemed a lot longer.
Stayed up late, without the usual nighttime rite of spraying mossy spray on our bodies. Went to bed about 11:30 and slept soundly until M woke up at 7: 15.Oh well, might as well get up.
Okay, so we had travelled 293 kms yesterday, we really needed to put in the distances.
Ulludulla sounds like a Moslem preacher, but that is not the case. No, it’s a very nice large town on the bay, about 52 kms north of our last stop at Batemans. We called in there to get some info, but we were too early. At 9:40 the Info shop wouldn’t open for another 20 minutes. We’d bought and posted whatever postcards we were going to do that day, it was too early for that coffee, so we went on. We wanted to get to Berry, a market town in the country, to get some nice meat for the barby at our next stop. It was about 83 kms distant.
It was another lovely town, we noticed a few other caravans / motor homes parked up. They must have had the same idea as us.
Another bakery, this time for a savoury pie for me and a heavenly Chocolate Éclair for M. Kim. Two coffees from the same place and back to the van for elevenses! God, it can’t get much better than this. We’re so easy to please!
It was here that we noticed a distinct change on two fronts. It was very humid, first time we’d noticed this in Oz, and the land was getting a lot greener. The hills were even less steep and a lot less of them.
Our next stop was to be Wollongong, about 144 kms away. This is apparently the third largest town in NSW, and we would be on the freeway by-passing it. The idea was to get there, and into the local Info shop. I really wanted to wild camp since it was to be our last full night in the van. To be able to find a place where we could legally achieve this we’d have to find the info in town. There were only 2 turn offs to get from the freeway into the town, but we were not to know this. By the time we realised it was too late, we were on our way to Sydney. In 85 kms we would have completed our journey. After a change of plot we decided to drive straight into Sydney, drive across the iconic bridge, and try to find an info shop. Forty-five kilometres out a sign welcoming us to Sydney, stretched across the freeway. Kinda big city this I mused.
We got over the bridge without to much discomfort, even though the traffic was very heavy, but trying to find the info was proving to be a bridge to far. Pardon the pun. Daisey took us, first to what turned out to be an art gallery, second to Sydney arena, third to a dead end and then we gave up, as did our nerves. It’s kind of traumatic driving in a strange city in an equally strange country, in even more strange heat, the air con was working overtime.
After circumnavigating Sydeys’ CBD a couple of times we decided on a different tactic. We put caravan sites into Daisey and she found several, the nearest one being about 25 kms away. Off we went, tempers settled down, nerves loosened up, anticipation eyeing us hungrily.
Daisey led us up a very pleasant street towards our final destination. Through a recently built estate of a couple of dozen houses. “You have reached your destination” she cheerfully announced. “ My plums” I cheerfully announced. We were at the end of a Cul de sac overlooked by shiny new homes! OMG. I was cracking up. We found a shopping centre with a Post Office. They’ll know I thought. We marched in, told the young Japanese girl of our predicament and waited. “ I not able to help with you, one moment please, I git thee bos”. She disappeared out the back and came back with an……………Indian. “Oh holy flip” I thought. Or something similar. After a bit of explaining in great detail, his eyes lit up and told us we were about 5 minutes from it.
We had to go back onto the freeway, and it was about 1 click up the road.
The site, as was the shopping centre was called Bass Hill.
We drove in, and even though it was the eve of Australia day, there were plenty of spaces on this 1* site. For 35 dollars a sullen ould doll would let us share her block.
A quick recce revealed the showers, toilet, and barby areas were all pretty good, and , indeed clean.
This was to be our last night in the van. We’d have a barby with the meat from up country, some asparagus, salad and a bottle of wine. It was all very nice, even though M found 1 of the sausages a bit spicy.
M started to pack our bags after dinner, it wouldn’t be just as early a start tomorrow, but might as well get that bit out of the way.
We had a few drinks over a conversation about the previous week. It seemed a lot longer.
Stayed up late, without the usual nighttime rite of spraying mossy spray on our bodies. Went to bed about 11:30 and slept soundly until M woke up at 7: 15.Oh well, might as well get up.
Motor home diaries - 24th January
ODO reading 1080. Day 5 Heading for Batemans Bay
Up early again, another bowl of Muesli for me and a couple of ciggies for M.
On the road for 8:15 and a non stop drive for 217kms. It was Sunday, so we decided to stop at a bakery in Narooma for a couple of buns. I went in and M had a wee puff. Oh dear Kim, you’d have loved what I found and bought for our elevenses. Two big apple pie buns with fresh cream inside them. M made coffee and we hovered said buns in silence, except for a few yums.
We stuck $50 diesel in the van, because the up hill and down dale geography of the region was taking its toll on our fuel consumption. Some of the hills were very steep and to get up some of them without dropping into second, we had to be doing between 100 and 120 kph at the bottom of the hill before the climb. The van had no problems doing this speed but anything more made it dance a bit.
We stopped at the top of one of these hills for a break and it was a very nice place to video. The countryside seemed to be getting a bit greener.
We arrived at this our only 4* campsite at 2:30. The 2 staff at reception was a tad officious, or could it have been just 2 more tired people caring for thrushes? There was a certain unwelcoming vibe about the place.
This place itself was very nice. After we parked up we noticed 4 parrots feeding on a bird table 3 feet from our back doors. Marvellous.
The shower and toilet blocks were spotless, kids played noisily in the pool, and our new neighbours grunted a hello.
We walked in to the town thinking it was only around the corner. Huh. It was about 2 clicks away and very warm. All we wanted was a cold beer in a nice beer garden, but there wasn’t even a pub. After calling in at a beer shop, we sat on the beach, had a beer while watching the bemused glances from passers by.
We had dinner in the site café. The place was called Scrumptious and so was the food. M had fish and chips, I had chicken schnitzel and salad. The fish was “Flathead”, I don’t like it myself, it’s a bit too strong, M loved it, my chicken was ok. Bill for the 2 with a beer and glass of vino was $40
Back to the van for a nightcap and another early night.
This was our most expensive site to date at $42, apart from the pool, I couldn’t see the value in it. The general area was nice but, in an American sort of way.
Up early again, another bowl of Muesli for me and a couple of ciggies for M.
On the road for 8:15 and a non stop drive for 217kms. It was Sunday, so we decided to stop at a bakery in Narooma for a couple of buns. I went in and M had a wee puff. Oh dear Kim, you’d have loved what I found and bought for our elevenses. Two big apple pie buns with fresh cream inside them. M made coffee and we hovered said buns in silence, except for a few yums.
We stuck $50 diesel in the van, because the up hill and down dale geography of the region was taking its toll on our fuel consumption. Some of the hills were very steep and to get up some of them without dropping into second, we had to be doing between 100 and 120 kph at the bottom of the hill before the climb. The van had no problems doing this speed but anything more made it dance a bit.
We stopped at the top of one of these hills for a break and it was a very nice place to video. The countryside seemed to be getting a bit greener.
We arrived at this our only 4* campsite at 2:30. The 2 staff at reception was a tad officious, or could it have been just 2 more tired people caring for thrushes? There was a certain unwelcoming vibe about the place.
This place itself was very nice. After we parked up we noticed 4 parrots feeding on a bird table 3 feet from our back doors. Marvellous.
The shower and toilet blocks were spotless, kids played noisily in the pool, and our new neighbours grunted a hello.
We walked in to the town thinking it was only around the corner. Huh. It was about 2 clicks away and very warm. All we wanted was a cold beer in a nice beer garden, but there wasn’t even a pub. After calling in at a beer shop, we sat on the beach, had a beer while watching the bemused glances from passers by.
We had dinner in the site café. The place was called Scrumptious and so was the food. M had fish and chips, I had chicken schnitzel and salad. The fish was “Flathead”, I don’t like it myself, it’s a bit too strong, M loved it, my chicken was ok. Bill for the 2 with a beer and glass of vino was $40
Back to the van for a nightcap and another early night.
This was our most expensive site to date at $42, apart from the pool, I couldn’t see the value in it. The general area was nice but, in an American sort of way.
Motor home diaries - 23rd January
ODO reading 767kms. Day 4
Another early start and we were away for 8.45am. Destination Shady Gully campsite in Mallacoota. We would follow the Princes Highway for most of the route.
After about an hour or so, we had the usual stop for a coffee and ciggie for mum in a place called Cann River. We had seen a sign for a market day today, which was all the more reason to stop – we love rummaging round markets…
We found the market easily enough in the centre of town – all 6 stalls. Got talking to an old girl who ran a touristy type of stall – very nice woman – she told us in great detail where she would be for the next 5-6 weeks. She had just become a great-granny but was still up for it. I bought Margaret an ashtray, which we would leave for Nicola for out her back after we left.
So, drove on to Bairnsdale which was a lovely wee town stopping for yet more coffee and a nosey. Past an interesting place called Nowa Nowa and called in for information. The lady told us to take a drive into Marlo where we could pause at 90 Mile Beach. Mind you we could only see about 2 of them.
Onwards to Cape Curran, which was a disappointing place, so we pressed on to Mallacoota. The site we had booked was 20kms off the main road through yet another National Forest. 3 kms from our destination we were stopped by the police and asked for a breath sample. Can you imagine! The first time in my life breathalysed, in the middle of a forest, in the middle of the day, in Australia! And I was sober…
It was on this road that we spotted the smoke from the bushfires hovering above the trees down below us in the valley. Scared the life out of M.
We found a site easily enough and parked up. The owner said the town was going about 1.1 kms away so we walked in. He also told us that if you call into the bar they will give you a courtesy lift home. We found the bar but it wasn’t very nice so we walked down to the harbour. There were quite a few pelicans swimming about on the water. A fella came over to the fish-cleaning table with his catch and we noticed as soon as he got there, the pelicans all swam up to the side, obviously waiting for their lunch. He threw the entrails in and they fed hungrily.
We had a meal here. M had pork with figs and sultanas a tad Algerian and I had prawn and mussel risotto – both gorgeous. Two puddings and a bottle of wine, the bill was $108.40.
We had noticed this Winnebago driving around lost looking. I thought he couldn’t find a site and was glad we had pre-booked ours. On our way back to the campsite we got slightly lost and encountered the Winnebago again. We stopped him as he came out of another campsite and advised him there were spare sites at our campground. Off he went and I thought he could have offered us a lift. About 5 mins later we met him again and he stopped saying he was lost. By this time, I knew where we were and told him we would give him directions again – but only if he gave us a lift! This he did and after we settled in we went looking for them. No sign of them – they must not have liked the site.
The site was busy being Australia Day weekend but there were one or two pitches left but he must have found it not to his taste.
In bed before 10.30 again in preparation for another early start.
$32 including power per night – a slightly over inflated price for what you got.
Another early start and we were away for 8.45am. Destination Shady Gully campsite in Mallacoota. We would follow the Princes Highway for most of the route.
After about an hour or so, we had the usual stop for a coffee and ciggie for mum in a place called Cann River. We had seen a sign for a market day today, which was all the more reason to stop – we love rummaging round markets…
We found the market easily enough in the centre of town – all 6 stalls. Got talking to an old girl who ran a touristy type of stall – very nice woman – she told us in great detail where she would be for the next 5-6 weeks. She had just become a great-granny but was still up for it. I bought Margaret an ashtray, which we would leave for Nicola for out her back after we left.
So, drove on to Bairnsdale which was a lovely wee town stopping for yet more coffee and a nosey. Past an interesting place called Nowa Nowa and called in for information. The lady told us to take a drive into Marlo where we could pause at 90 Mile Beach. Mind you we could only see about 2 of them.
Onwards to Cape Curran, which was a disappointing place, so we pressed on to Mallacoota. The site we had booked was 20kms off the main road through yet another National Forest. 3 kms from our destination we were stopped by the police and asked for a breath sample. Can you imagine! The first time in my life breathalysed, in the middle of a forest, in the middle of the day, in Australia! And I was sober…
It was on this road that we spotted the smoke from the bushfires hovering above the trees down below us in the valley. Scared the life out of M.
We found a site easily enough and parked up. The owner said the town was going about 1.1 kms away so we walked in. He also told us that if you call into the bar they will give you a courtesy lift home. We found the bar but it wasn’t very nice so we walked down to the harbour. There were quite a few pelicans swimming about on the water. A fella came over to the fish-cleaning table with his catch and we noticed as soon as he got there, the pelicans all swam up to the side, obviously waiting for their lunch. He threw the entrails in and they fed hungrily.
We had a meal here. M had pork with figs and sultanas a tad Algerian and I had prawn and mussel risotto – both gorgeous. Two puddings and a bottle of wine, the bill was $108.40.
We had noticed this Winnebago driving around lost looking. I thought he couldn’t find a site and was glad we had pre-booked ours. On our way back to the campsite we got slightly lost and encountered the Winnebago again. We stopped him as he came out of another campsite and advised him there were spare sites at our campground. Off he went and I thought he could have offered us a lift. About 5 mins later we met him again and he stopped saying he was lost. By this time, I knew where we were and told him we would give him directions again – but only if he gave us a lift! This he did and after we settled in we went looking for them. No sign of them – they must not have liked the site.
The site was busy being Australia Day weekend but there were one or two pitches left but he must have found it not to his taste.
In bed before 10.30 again in preparation for another early start.
$32 including power per night – a slightly over inflated price for what you got.
Motor home diaries - 22nd January
ODO reading 533kms.
We’ve decided we are going to be more sensible in our approach to the trip. This will be our last detour.
Sean at the campsite had said it would be good to go up to Dargo as it was a nice drive. Duly, we put Dargo into Daisy and she told us to drive for 90kms.
When we arrived at Dargo, which is up in the high country, we called into the General Store for a coffee and information. The owner, a man the same age as us, was very helpful. His first thought was to send us on an adventure along a 50km dirt road high into the mountains on the other side of the valley. I explained we had no insurance for dirt roads so he told us to go to a place called Grant, which was the first goldmine in the area. This involved driving from 600ft above sea level to 3300ft in 30kms. The smell of eucalyptus was nauseating, like having a bottle of Vicks up your nose. It was so steep part of the journey was in 1st and 2nd gears. On the way up the van overheated and on the way back down, the brakes nearly caught fire! It’s the scariest trip we’ve ever done. Everything was tinder dry, there was a Catastrophic Fire Warning (most severe) in place and I was driving about with white-hot brakes!
We turned at Grant, which was actually a shack at the side of the road and a signpost saying ruined goldmine 6kms away. We decided to go and have lunch in Dargo, which was very nice, but we avoided the man who sent us up the mountain.
When we got back to Stratford we tried to have a siesta but it was too warm, apparently it was 38 degs.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that David and Barbara (the expats) were ardent Aussies. He had done military service and their son and daughter are presently in the military.
Sean was telling us there were bushfires between Mallacoota and us our next stop. He advised keeping an ear out on ABC radio (BBC) to get fire-warning updates to make sure we could continue travelling.
Final night at Stratford campsite, in bed for 10.00pm – up early in the morning.
We’ve decided we are going to be more sensible in our approach to the trip. This will be our last detour.
Sean at the campsite had said it would be good to go up to Dargo as it was a nice drive. Duly, we put Dargo into Daisy and she told us to drive for 90kms.
When we arrived at Dargo, which is up in the high country, we called into the General Store for a coffee and information. The owner, a man the same age as us, was very helpful. His first thought was to send us on an adventure along a 50km dirt road high into the mountains on the other side of the valley. I explained we had no insurance for dirt roads so he told us to go to a place called Grant, which was the first goldmine in the area. This involved driving from 600ft above sea level to 3300ft in 30kms. The smell of eucalyptus was nauseating, like having a bottle of Vicks up your nose. It was so steep part of the journey was in 1st and 2nd gears. On the way up the van overheated and on the way back down, the brakes nearly caught fire! It’s the scariest trip we’ve ever done. Everything was tinder dry, there was a Catastrophic Fire Warning (most severe) in place and I was driving about with white-hot brakes!
We turned at Grant, which was actually a shack at the side of the road and a signpost saying ruined goldmine 6kms away. We decided to go and have lunch in Dargo, which was very nice, but we avoided the man who sent us up the mountain.
When we got back to Stratford we tried to have a siesta but it was too warm, apparently it was 38 degs.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that David and Barbara (the expats) were ardent Aussies. He had done military service and their son and daughter are presently in the military.
Sean was telling us there were bushfires between Mallacoota and us our next stop. He advised keeping an ear out on ABC radio (BBC) to get fire-warning updates to make sure we could continue travelling.
Final night at Stratford campsite, in bed for 10.00pm – up early in the morning.
Motor home diaries - 21st January
So, we were on the road for 8.30am. Our original plot was to go to 90 Mile Beach and this is where it all goes wrong… Or maybe not wrong, but to do a trip like this you need to set a route and stick to it. We took a detour to Paradise Beach and Golden Beach because we liked the sound of their names. This is a place where you can wild camp, but we needed to charge the battery to keep everything ticking over. It felt like 28 degs today so we would definitely need to use the aircon in the van and this required an electrical hook-up.
After much assing about we stopped at a local Tourist Information office and talked to really helpful staff and got some brochures to help us out. We decided to stop off at Stratford, a small town sitting on the banks of the River Avon! The site was lovely and clean and tidy so we decided to stay for 2 nights. We took this decision because it was going to be 35 degs the following day.
We stopped in a town called Sale to pick up some nice meat for the BBQ and salady stuff. Apart from that there, it was a break from the driving and my behind was shouting at me.
Sale was a lovely town, and as everywhere we went we had a lovely coffee. A flat white, nice and hot. The butcher shop was impeccable and clearly the butcher took great pride in his trade.
So, back to Stratford. The first night we took a dander into town and stopped at the only pub to have a beer. Stomachs rumbling we went back to camp and cooked on the camp BBQ. The first time I’ve ever eaten steak and salad sitting on the banks of the River Avon.
This site was $25 per night, including power; Sean and Louise ran it. The showers were spotlessly clean, the owners very helpful and friendly.
That night we joined 2 other couples. One expat living here since 1966 and the other from Frankston, Vic. Barbara and Dave had retired and bought a motor home. Ole Dave loved bikes and he had a 3 wheeler in an enclosed trailer towing behind the van. Mary and Robert looked and sounded like retired hippies, they had 5 kids and used to love going wild camping. They would get up in the mornings and bathe in the rivers. The kids were all grown up but are still keen campers.
We drove 289 kms to get to Stratford.
Each night we were in bed by 10.15pm absolutely drained but content.
After much assing about we stopped at a local Tourist Information office and talked to really helpful staff and got some brochures to help us out. We decided to stop off at Stratford, a small town sitting on the banks of the River Avon! The site was lovely and clean and tidy so we decided to stay for 2 nights. We took this decision because it was going to be 35 degs the following day.
We stopped in a town called Sale to pick up some nice meat for the BBQ and salady stuff. Apart from that there, it was a break from the driving and my behind was shouting at me.
Sale was a lovely town, and as everywhere we went we had a lovely coffee. A flat white, nice and hot. The butcher shop was impeccable and clearly the butcher took great pride in his trade.
So, back to Stratford. The first night we took a dander into town and stopped at the only pub to have a beer. Stomachs rumbling we went back to camp and cooked on the camp BBQ. The first time I’ve ever eaten steak and salad sitting on the banks of the River Avon.
This site was $25 per night, including power; Sean and Louise ran it. The showers were spotlessly clean, the owners very helpful and friendly.
That night we joined 2 other couples. One expat living here since 1966 and the other from Frankston, Vic. Barbara and Dave had retired and bought a motor home. Ole Dave loved bikes and he had a 3 wheeler in an enclosed trailer towing behind the van. Mary and Robert looked and sounded like retired hippies, they had 5 kids and used to love going wild camping. They would get up in the mornings and bathe in the rivers. The kids were all grown up but are still keen campers.
We drove 289 kms to get to Stratford.
Each night we were in bed by 10.15pm absolutely drained but content.
Motor home diaries - 20th Jan 2010
Nicola had the Toyota because it has Sat Nav and this got us up to Britz
Rentals where we would pick up the motor home. Trev once again made do with the white car. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but when you’re used to driving a brand new motor, a fifteen year old Mitsubishi Magna estate is not quite the same….
So all checks were made and we loaded up the motor home with enough clothes for a month. But wait, we’re only away for 9 days!
The “van” was a VW works bus conversion. It had a shower, toilet, 3-ring gas cooker, extraction over the cooker. A/C, a wardrobe, sink, fridge, all the usual bits and pieces to be found in a caravan.
Our first call was to be Wilsons Promontory, Tidal River. Daisy the satnav said 200kms and 3 hours 7 minutes. Aye right. This was our first outing and if we did less than 300kms it would be a miracle. We did alright; it was only 244.5 kms door to gate.
The drive down was mainly through state forests and not a whole lot of interesting stuff to look at. I thought we might do better to be more thorough in our preparation so that there would be something of interest to see.
On arriving at the gates of the park, we were told there were no sites free. After a wee bit of chat I discovered one of the two girls had recently been to Ireland on a trip, and in fact they had just found a spare site. They keep some sites for out of state or overseas visitors. Jolly good job as well, even as we woke up the following morning there was still a spare site beside us!
This is the their web site. The park has 50,500 hectares, gets 400,000 visitors a year.
There are lots of different walks, Squeaky Beach, is a nice, and interesting place to call in at. Loads of info can be found at their web site above.
The first part of the site is where the shop, café, and office are found. We decided to visit the shop, but as time was wearing on, about 6pm, the shop was quite low on produce except for frozen stuff - This may have been because it was 32kms deep in the forest. The staff was quite low on customer service but we weren’t at all surprised. There are 480 sites, and all but one taken, hundreds of kids, no alcohol for sale, people on their holiday with the holidaymakers not being very friendly to the staff.
Anyway, we got a hot lamb roll and a hot beef roll, which was very yummy. We went and parked up.
The campsite is a bird watchers paradise; before we went to bed we watched the blue robins, Rosella’s and kites. We crawled into bed eventually at 10.15pm. It wasn’t a very compfy first night, we still had to get used to the 4 in thick mattress but we were knackered.
The site cost $23 including power. The site wasn’t scored very highly as it was a bit run down and dusty but then it is nearing the end of the season.
Rentals where we would pick up the motor home. Trev once again made do with the white car. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but when you’re used to driving a brand new motor, a fifteen year old Mitsubishi Magna estate is not quite the same….
So all checks were made and we loaded up the motor home with enough clothes for a month. But wait, we’re only away for 9 days!
The “van” was a VW works bus conversion. It had a shower, toilet, 3-ring gas cooker, extraction over the cooker. A/C, a wardrobe, sink, fridge, all the usual bits and pieces to be found in a caravan.
Our first call was to be Wilsons Promontory, Tidal River. Daisy the satnav said 200kms and 3 hours 7 minutes. Aye right. This was our first outing and if we did less than 300kms it would be a miracle. We did alright; it was only 244.5 kms door to gate.
The drive down was mainly through state forests and not a whole lot of interesting stuff to look at. I thought we might do better to be more thorough in our preparation so that there would be something of interest to see.
On arriving at the gates of the park, we were told there were no sites free. After a wee bit of chat I discovered one of the two girls had recently been to Ireland on a trip, and in fact they had just found a spare site. They keep some sites for out of state or overseas visitors. Jolly good job as well, even as we woke up the following morning there was still a spare site beside us!
This is the their web site. The park has 50,500 hectares, gets 400,000 visitors a year.
There are lots of different walks, Squeaky Beach, is a nice, and interesting place to call in at. Loads of info can be found at their web site above.
The first part of the site is where the shop, café, and office are found. We decided to visit the shop, but as time was wearing on, about 6pm, the shop was quite low on produce except for frozen stuff - This may have been because it was 32kms deep in the forest. The staff was quite low on customer service but we weren’t at all surprised. There are 480 sites, and all but one taken, hundreds of kids, no alcohol for sale, people on their holiday with the holidaymakers not being very friendly to the staff.
Anyway, we got a hot lamb roll and a hot beef roll, which was very yummy. We went and parked up.
The campsite is a bird watchers paradise; before we went to bed we watched the blue robins, Rosella’s and kites. We crawled into bed eventually at 10.15pm. It wasn’t a very compfy first night, we still had to get used to the 4 in thick mattress but we were knackered.
The site cost $23 including power. The site wasn’t scored very highly as it was a bit run down and dusty but then it is nearing the end of the season.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Time to chill before the hill
Day 14
Or
Or
Time to chill before the hill.
Tis Tuesday today and we’re taking it easy. The gals want to go shopping for stuff for our trip up to Sydney tomorrow. We caught a tram to the top of Chapel Street and walked back home. I think there are 3 thousand shops on each side of the road. Nicola and Marg were in most of them! We had to stop at a couple of watering holes on the way back, just to rehydrate. The thermometer only read about 28. I’ve given up looking at the temperature. It’s either very warm, too warm, or where’s that ice.
Shopping on Chapel
Old tram
Nicola is going to upload some pics later and finish this off. As usual we’re running out of time. We’re going to pick the motor home up and disappear for a week on the way up to Sydney. I’ll take notes and do a detailed job when we return.
It’s a hard life. (Or at least it was)
Day 14
Or
It’s a hard life. (Or at least it was)
This morning started dull and dreary. And the weather was awful as well.
Nicola thought it would be nice to go to Ballarat. It was one of the gold fields in the 1850’s. They have set up an entire village on a hillside, to resemble life in those dark and difficult times. It’s called Sovereign Hill. Dark for some, but the few that found big nuggets, it was a very bright time indeed.
We spent over three hours walking around the village, but could have done with at least an other hour. If you get a chance, check out their web site here.
Or
It’s a hard life. (Or at least it was)
This morning started dull and dreary. And the weather was awful as well.
Nicola thought it would be nice to go to Ballarat. It was one of the gold fields in the 1850’s. They have set up an entire village on a hillside, to resemble life in those dark and difficult times. It’s called Sovereign Hill. Dark for some, but the few that found big nuggets, it was a very bright time indeed.
Nicola's not keen on mum's new boyfriend
We spent over three hours walking around the village, but could have done with at least an other hour. If you get a chance, check out their web site here.
Panning for gold
Ice sculptures
It was a ninety minute drive, through rolling country, nearly all on the freeway.
Have a wee look at some photos, and I will come back to you tomorrow.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
It’s Sunday
Day 13
Or
It’s Sunday.
Or
It’s Sunday.
It’s hard sometimes to get out of bed in the morning.
This was one of those days.
We haven’t been staying up late or anything.
It’s just the heat and the walking. Oh yes loads of walking.
Twev and Nicola took us out to dinner last night. It was a Chinese, but one that has an Aussie equivalent of a Michelin star.
4 starters, 4 mains, and add a couple of bottles of vino, £136 or so.
The food was very good, as was the service, if not a bit patchy.
The meals were completely different from the way we get them at home.
King Prawns and garlic is what it says on the tin. Just the garlic butter and prawns, beef in back bean sauce, delicious and served with bak choi. The sauce was clinging to the meat, and the veg served on the side.
That sort of thing.
This morning we decided to have a fry up, as it had gone midday, and we were not eating till about four or five. I barbied sausages, bacon, tomato and eggs outside and we feasted.
A trip around the bay to the home of two of Twevs friends for late late lunch. Scott and Lisa have two lovely daughters, Ellie 9 and Maddi 12. A boxer dog with attitude, potentially, and a lovely home.
They took us for a walk around Williamstown, their home suburb.
A lovely gesture, even though it was trying to rain. Scott pointed out places of interest, it must have been great growing up in this locality.
There’s a link here to the town http://www.williamstowninfo.com.au/if you need to know more.
Back home to their place, where after a fine lunch of barbied leg of lamb, veg, roasties, and salad.
I showed the wee ones our house on Google earth. They weren’t impressed so I went back outdoors and had some more fine Aussie ale.
We said our goodbyes, and drove off into a cloudy evening.
Today was our third attempt to do the balloon flight, and guess what? Yep, cancelled again.
We’re just going to get a refund and buy Marg some frocks instead.
That’s all for this time.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Where did I put that time?
Days 11 and 12
Holidays are great, but they make you lose things, like time. I’ve misplaced a day and Margaret hasn’t seen it either – oh but hold on – Nicola has found it for me – it was my shoplifting day. So, in view of this I thought it might be nice to give some bog standard info on the Aussie way of life and what and how much they pay.
I was very aware while out and about of youngsters, especially their behaviour. At first sight they seem, and this is from age about 6 up, to be too forward and outspoken. Maybe even bordering on the cheeky stroke insolent.
But, last night we went to a twelve year olds birthday party. This was the son of Huddo and Yvonne. Max, has a younger brother of 7, and a cousin of 5 Ella. Max’s friend was there also. The four of them struck me as behaving about 4 –5 years older than their actual age. It’s only when you watch the interaction and dialogue between the wee ones and their parents, you sus out the answer. Parents treat their kids as small adults, instead of the European way of parental domination. It works very well.
Prices and quality
This morning, Saturday, Marg and I took the train into Melbourne and headed for the Victoria Market. It’s just like St. Georges Market on steroids. Apparently there is over a hundred stalls and the place is divided into different sectors. Deli, amazing food from around the globe, Dairy, Fish and Meat, I could write a whole page on this sector alone. Let’s just say the meat and fish look as though they’ve been prepared for sale by Master Chefs or 5 star butchers. There’s a huge fruit and veg section, and a section selling clothes and stuff.
We found the meat, fish and deli prices to be very similar to home prices. Fruit and veg, gloriously fresh and perfect looking seemed a bit cheaper than Tescos.
If you want a coffee, and this is a serious coffee culture, it will cost about £1.90 an average, a pot of beer (about a half pint) is £1.38, a glass of wine about £3.85. An average breakfast is about £7 - £9.50. Eating out at night is about £11 - £18 for a main course.
On the up side, sun is free, and if you’re careful with the cream, won’t get your fingers nor anywhere else burnt!
The past 2 days Marg and I have been exploring the city on our own. It’s brilliant. No time constraints, no worries about getting lost. We do that constantly, and the fun is trying to remember how we got ourselves back on an even keel again.
St Pauls Cathedral (Anglican)
We’d spotted a huge cathedral, and as usual wanted to visit. No religious stuff, just an admiration of work carried out years ago before health and safety wallahs brought the world to its unprotected knees.
This church was just the ticket. Almost Presbyterian like, even a bit austere. None of the trappings of cathedrals we’ve visited in Catholic countries. It’s sad. Australia is a vibrant young and very wealthy continent. Melbourne's main church has none of those gold icons nor hugely expensive artwork. India has sod all; their churches are worth millions. Same to a lesser extent in Europe. It’s time the world woke up to the fact that God never wanted to be anywhere but in peoples hearts. All of these embellishments are not required. Food and water are.
A nice way to spend an hour, reading all the obituary like tablets, dedicated to people that actually gave a dam about their fellow humans. Now, back out into the heat. Not too bad at 26°.
Chinese Museum
The girl who lives next door to here recommended the museum.
I’m fast running out of time, so this is short. It was interesting, arranged over 4 floors. The first 2 floors told the story of emigration from China and surrounding countries, I noticed Japan was not one. A floor dedicated to artwork where paintings could be had for between $200 and $5000 fried rice extra. The top floor was all about clothing and society in general. We stopped at a Chinese home bakery. Now that was something else. Fantastic array of bread related products. Marg had the equivalent of a Danish with ham, cheese, pineapple and some sort of cream, I had a really bizarre hot-dog. Yummy.
It’s magic, we asked two people for directions at different times. Both were Irish, and only one was able to help.
It’s nearly two weeks since we last saw our wee nuisances. You know who you are. I hope you’re behaving for your Mum and Dad.
We miss you but at the same time we’re meeting new people so that sort of makes up for it. People that say, G’day mate, or, How are you, today? They all speak with Australian accents. Anyway, you wouldn’t like all this sun!
We had breakfast on Carlisle this morning, after coming back up from the town.
I’m just about to finish this, Mum's out on the patio reading in the shade, Twev is watching the cricket, and Nicola is sorting out where we’re dining tonight. It’s 28° outside, down from 33° at 11:30.
Altogether a hard life!
Do I have to go shopping?
Day 10
Sometimes you just have to do things you really don’t want to. Go to the dentist, go to work, get your accounts ready, go shopping.
Marg decided it was time to get me some new shorts, I had sat down under a tree in the middle of town and people threw money at me. They thought I was a tramp...
Only joking. Marg, Nicola and I went into Melbourne city centre to get me some new shorts, all I wanted was a decent pair of sunglasses. A much needed accessory down here. Finding the right pair was a dawdle compared to the shorts episode.
We were in every shop possible but the sort of price being asked was between £40 and £55. I think this reflects the amount of material being used. I had given up on trying to find a reasonably priced pair, and we were on our way back to Myer a huge department store, to bite the bullet and get a dear pair. We were walking or maybe prowling about as you do, when I noticed a very tall black guy, who’s tinder dry looking hair stood erect about six or seven inches. There was also this Aussie looking bloke with what looked like a hand radio. Both were watching my every move.
Anyway either Marg or Nicola found these shorts at a proper price. They went off to find the loo and I decided to look for more and then try them on. I took three pairs into the changing room, tried on one pair, and decided that would do nicely thank you. On exiting the changing rooms I was waiting for the sheilas to come back when I noticed I was being watched by ol’ bone dry hair who appeared to be reading a newspaper sideways. Shortly after the Aussie fella turned up. I thought Jeez boys, these fellas must think I’m a shoplifter.
The girls appeared and while I was waiting to be served, I spotted the fellas watching me again. We had to then go to a different till, and the friggers still followed me. I found myself getting a tad irritated – read paranoid. Cutting it short Nicola said the Aussie fella was with the guy getting served beside me, and old bone dry hair was with someone else. I *PAID* for the shorts and baled out into the sunshine. We passed an Indian shop selling tat and more tat. There were watches on display, at $10. You know the sort. Well, the wee girl serving was not so bright. Never even knew what a looky looky man was. I eventually bought one of the super watches for $10 and it even came with a 12 month warranty. She never even offered me a bag, so as we were walking towards our next coffee stop I tried to put it on. The buckle buckled, I reversed, and got a replacement one no bother, she even insisted on putting it on for me!
On we went for a much needed coffee or vino. Segovia is a highly rated restaurant in one of the lanes. Indeed if you want to eat or drink there at meal times, you really need to be early. There was a young dark chap trying to entice passers-by in with a cheery “Hello, how are you, today?” while sticking a menu up their noses. I’m not saying the lad was thin, but he made McGivern look like a sumo wrestler! So, coffee break over, time to head back to base.
Sometimes you just have to do things you really don’t want to. Go to the dentist, go to work, get your accounts ready, go shopping.
Marg decided it was time to get me some new shorts, I had sat down under a tree in the middle of town and people threw money at me. They thought I was a tramp...
Only joking. Marg, Nicola and I went into Melbourne city centre to get me some new shorts, all I wanted was a decent pair of sunglasses. A much needed accessory down here. Finding the right pair was a dawdle compared to the shorts episode.
We were in every shop possible but the sort of price being asked was between £40 and £55. I think this reflects the amount of material being used. I had given up on trying to find a reasonably priced pair, and we were on our way back to Myer a huge department store, to bite the bullet and get a dear pair. We were walking or maybe prowling about as you do, when I noticed a very tall black guy, who’s tinder dry looking hair stood erect about six or seven inches. There was also this Aussie looking bloke with what looked like a hand radio. Both were watching my every move.
Anyway either Marg or Nicola found these shorts at a proper price. They went off to find the loo and I decided to look for more and then try them on. I took three pairs into the changing room, tried on one pair, and decided that would do nicely thank you. On exiting the changing rooms I was waiting for the sheilas to come back when I noticed I was being watched by ol’ bone dry hair who appeared to be reading a newspaper sideways. Shortly after the Aussie fella turned up. I thought Jeez boys, these fellas must think I’m a shoplifter.
The girls appeared and while I was waiting to be served, I spotted the fellas watching me again. We had to then go to a different till, and the friggers still followed me. I found myself getting a tad irritated – read paranoid. Cutting it short Nicola said the Aussie fella was with the guy getting served beside me, and old bone dry hair was with someone else. I *PAID* for the shorts and baled out into the sunshine. We passed an Indian shop selling tat and more tat. There were watches on display, at $10. You know the sort. Well, the wee girl serving was not so bright. Never even knew what a looky looky man was. I eventually bought one of the super watches for $10 and it even came with a 12 month warranty. She never even offered me a bag, so as we were walking towards our next coffee stop I tried to put it on. The buckle buckled, I reversed, and got a replacement one no bother, she even insisted on putting it on for me!
On we went for a much needed coffee or vino. Segovia is a highly rated restaurant in one of the lanes. Indeed if you want to eat or drink there at meal times, you really need to be early. There was a young dark chap trying to entice passers-by in with a cheery “Hello, how are you, today?” while sticking a menu up their noses. I’m not saying the lad was thin, but he made McGivern look like a sumo wrestler! So, coffee break over, time to head back to base.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
First impressions
If you like these vids, let me know by adding a comment, and I will publish some more dahlings...
Sincerely,
Nick Spielberg Esq
St Kilda Beach
Meeting the outlaws
Meeting the Roos
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Up hill down dale and other things
Days 6 - 9
Or
Remember the Sabbath.
I’m going to have to condense 4 days into a shorter space. The main reason is we were away up the Yarra Valley for a special treat. The other reason is I couldn’t be arsed doing all that typing on such a glorious day as this.
Generally the weather has been like Margaret years ago. Yep, one day hot and draining the next, cooler and moody.
On Monday night we had the highest nighttime temperature for a hundred years. 37°.
Do any of you guys know anyone that was around a hundred years ago to say?
Well, maybe it was you Billy Mac!
Sunday we had Trev's Mum, Dad and Sister around for a baaarby.
Jack, the dad would remind the Mount Ober ones of that gentleman, in the truest sense of the word, Ray, that was in McGiverns 4ball.
Thelma was as sweet as a jar of honey. The kind of lady you would like to have as a neighbour. Debbie. Ah yes dahling, the charming and vivacious Debbie. A treat, a sight for sore eyes. And a voice that carries well. Debbie is in Amateur Dramatics.
If you didn’t know they were siblings, you’d think they had just met on a tram. All four are very close emotionally, and all four are as separate as our Billy and me!
We’d a lovely wee afternoon. Jack going on about the Immigration, The rest of us sampling the wines we got at Mornington Peninsula. Altogether excellent.
Day 7
Or Up hills and down dales.
Monday morning, and the temperature was on its way up to 43.
Trev lent us his A/c Toyota to do our travelling. Thank God for that.
We loaded up the car for the three-day expedition that was to include an animal sanctuary. More wineries, general touristy stuff, and of course the Dawn balloon flight.
We’d travelled for about an hour, deep into farmland where the fields are the size of Ballymena.
Stopping the car to let the two puffers get out it was like walking into an overworked sauna.
The gauge in the car had told us the outside temp was 41 and it was not lying dahlings.
Sorry Debbie.
I’ve never experienced heat like it outside the van or a couple of restaurants I was unfortunately working in.
The girls puffed quickly and we were on our way.
Nicola had found a wee B & B up near where we were to fly.
It was on a farm in the middle of the bush. Our accommodation was to be the original, but extended dwelling that was built there over a hundred years ago.
It had a pool where we met up with the owners Tom & Jeanette.
Below the property there were two smallish fields.
Imagine our delight when, after we had dinner and were sitting on the veranda, a herd of kangaroos appeared from the trees and started munching the grass.
Some ofem even bounced past us, not more than a few feet away.
Slept on top of the bed, way too warm to get under the bedclothes.
We had to phone the balloonists to make sure the flight was on and guess what?
High temperatures and strong winds meant it couldn’t get up.
Bummer.
We decided to tour around the area that was burnt badly in last years bush fires.
It was very unpleasant, even a year on.
Although the ground cover is back in the forests, the trees are blackened, and you can’t hear any birdsong.
The little town of Marysville that was destroyed has come to terms with its lot and there is a lot of new building going on.
Another early night was needed to get up early for the flight.
Day 8
Or
Where the frig are we going now?
At half six last night the flight was on, but we should call at 03:30 this morning to confirm.
Poor old Nicola stayed awake in case we overslept.
Calling in at half three she was told it was off, because of rain! And something else - 160kph gusts...
This was really getting on our tits.
Nicola never woke us with the bad news so we slept blissfully through that.
Apparently the rain came in torrents during the night, we had had a wee skiff early in the evening but nothing much.
There’s a tin roof on that Rosebud Cottage and the noise certainly never disturbed me.
We’d already decided to go to Healesville Sanctuary.
A sort of open zoo, with medical out patients departments for sick animals.
I wondered if the balloon pilot was in here?
This is a lovely place to visit.
All the animals are indigenous to Aus, and live in what seems to be a happy environment.
Naturally the happy snapper was at work.
I wondered how many pictures are taken daily in there?
They had a bird of prey display, and some Aborigine guy displayed his prowess with a boomerang and Didgeridoo.
A very entertaining way to spend at least a half day.
It rained for about five minutes while we sitting watching the birds, so this prompted our move back to the car and home.
We called into the oldest winery in Victoria, well you have to don’t you, if you’re in the area.
This one, Yering Station, was enormous.
They only produced about eighteen wines.
Their average price was about $22.
I still can’t get my head round the prices they ask for.
Arriving back at base after six, we got a baaarrby sorted.
Ate too much, watched the Cricket, yes Alan, the Cricket.
Went to bed and slept soundly till it was time to get up and do this.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Mussels on the peninsula.
Day 5
Or Mussels on the Peninsula.
We had a long drive in front of Trev. Over 90 minutes in fact with the sun glaring and the A/c earning its crust.
Or Mussels on the Peninsula.
We had a long drive in front of Trev. Over 90 minutes in fact with the sun glaring and the A/c earning its crust.
We were going to a shindig that celebrates the beautiful Aussie Blue Mussels, down on the peninsula at Port Arlington. This place would remind you very much of the wee town featured in Jaws.
It was busy, with a lot of city folk making the trip to join friends and relatives. Stalls selling mussels cooked in different ways, hotdogs and all the usual sort of stuff you see at these events.
We had a walk along the pier. That’s the second pier we’ve done, do you think we might get a Pierage out of it? Uneventful, except for the joy of people watching.
A drive through the country brought us to our next stop.
Queenscliffe. A lovely wee town built on the back of diggers and land owners that had made shed loads of cash at the turn of the 20th century.
Queenscliffe. A lovely wee town built on the back of diggers and land owners that had made shed loads of cash at the turn of the 20th century.
Some georgeous old hotels, and the one we visited had a roof garden. We climbed the stairs, all three million of them to find ourselves in the beer garden (ish) with 360° views. A really lovely place to visit, if not to live in, in your retirement dearie.
The road home was long, even though most of it was freeway.
My wee head was like that Churchill the nodding dog. It’s very tiring being tired.
By the time we got home, the sun and drudgery of a long drive had taken its toll.
Yep, Trev was knackered. We let him go to bed early, but not after we had had a tasty wee Thai carryout.
A short one today dearies because it’s eating into valuable time doing these blog things, so let me bore you with some snaps.
Remember, it's still January!
Friday, January 8, 2010
Wine oh Wine is it always me..
I’m trying to remember who has a dog that might enjoy this wee machine. Sophie, Jack, Lucky.
C’mon c’mon.
Wine oh wine is it always me?
Or Day 4 the first touring of the wineries.
Trev took a day off and decided to show us some vineyards. More so to keep mother sweet than us. Mum loves a dander through the wine fields. Not as much though as we enjoyed the Cellar Door visits. A visit to a winery gives you the chance to sample the wares, and if you like what they do, buy some to take home. The ones we bought will never see our home, not the whites anyway!
Fourteen is the new zero. That’s how many flippin bites I have. I’ve also got crispy ears where the sun attacked. My two blisters disappeared during the night. I think the mossies got in and drank them dry. It was very warm and the wee dearies might have been thirsty.
The drive from here up to the coast is effortless. St Kilda is at or near a crossroads that is a major road on a major network of roads. Once on that road it’s pretty straight. Trevs car is a couple of month old Toyota with all sorts of luxurious bits in it. The drive took us past the equivalent of Cultra on steroids, where huge windows looked high over the coastal road to the shimmering azure water of the Tasman Sea. It was climbing to 28° at the seashore, so we figured the folks in town were crisping up nicely thank you.
I’m going to quieten down the language on this because Kim understandably finds some of the words not to be in Rachel’s books.
So instead of writing to you dear readers as I actually think, I’ll write as if you are my Ma-in-law.
Glad you enjoyed it, see you next year.
See, that made you panic.
Please welcome Nicola and Trevor. They’re attacking a babby. Spelt right.
Oh, back to day 4 and the wineries.
The drive, which lasted about 90 minutes, was pleasant, through coastal suburbs and then into the hills. The first winery we visited was Red Hill Estate, and this is where we decided to have lunch. We ate first and boy what a feed. Outstanding. I could go into the details but I notice Billy Mac is falling asleep. It was understandably a very busy restaurant, but the staff served you like were a long lost cousin, and the staff was large.
Buying “Cellar Door” wine I thought you’d get a bit knocked off. Ahh, no way Jose. Even if you buy a dozen, nought.
Look, there’s Crosser looking up the exchange rates here.
At Red Hill we got an 07 Chardonnay for $22 and an 07 Shiraz $30 and this was not the cheapest. At Paringa we got Reisling for $15 Pinot Gris @ $25 Very sexy Olive Oil for $20. A Chardonnay was $39 at T Gallant and the outstandingly dear one was $65 for an 08 Pinot Noir.
At our last winery we saw a sign for a Cheesery with tasting. It was a little way into the bush and right beside where we were parked so in we went.
On our way back down through the hills we spotted ………..
Now I have to stay sober to taste the bloody wine, Margaret has started declaring the Riesling to be OK.
Back at base in the city we found the temperature to be 36°. Time to crank up the A/C and have a cold one.
I just had water for a while, the drive back was tiring and we all snoozed, except poor old Trev.
They still had things to do, so M and I left them to it and went for a wee siesta.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Jelly and cake
No bother to Nick, I had a lie in. Yep, quarter to five is a great time to get up.
At that time of the day it was pushing 16° and we ( M was up as well ) needed a coffee or tea. Nicola and Trevor have an all singing all dancing coffee machine. According to your taste you hit a button and there you are. A perfect coffee. Only thing is though, it starts the process by grinding the beans. Have you any idea of the flippin noise that makes at this time of the morning? So it was tea then.
I chose this early hour to write the Blog, because of the quiet. Except for the chorus of singers sitting high in the branches outside, there is only the sound of the fridge. The only thing working at this time of day.
The sun is pouring through the wide wall of floor to ceiling windows and getting a tad warm. Not to mention the pain in the bum trying to see the screen, and stop myself from taking the laptop into the garden and doing this. Wonder what the neighbour would think if she saw me tapping away at six in the morning?
The troops stirred, time for breakfast and hopefully get the two birds out onto the street. This was our second full day, and we decided to do St Kilda beach and St Kilda gardens.
The gardens were a let down, it’s the height of summer here and the grass and vegetation are showing signs of bad nerves. It’s harsh here; when so many humans need so much water, plants take a second or third seat. They have a mini Botanical garden a fraction of the far more elaborate one in our hometown. The conservatory was built in 1990 and looks and feels at least 20 years older.
We proceeded in an orderly fashion me lewd, to the Acland Street area. Under no circumstances can our Kim or the kids come here. Nearly every other shop for a good two hundred yards is a cake shop. And what cakes? Wee articles of sheer beauty that you shove down your neck. Marvellous. After having just a coffee on the kerbside we went for a look around Luna Park. A funfair dating back a century; mind you some of the original bits are still there. And that’s just the staff in their cute purple suits.
24° is not a big lot, either at home nor on the Costas’. Here it’s bit different, it seems a good 6 or so degrees warmer. There are those that say the ozone is non-existent down here. Well if it’s missing I personally blame the Eastern Europeans. I went to get a haircut yesterday and the nearest barber was good, but Eastern European. Three chairs, three barbers zero conversations. A guy came in to the seat beside me and remarked to the barber girl about the hot weather. “ It’s summer,” she groaned, “What do you expect?” Anyway, that was first thing this morning. Who said, “You’re not going out with hair like that”? Mmm.
So we went from Luna Park, well famous and well old, to the foreshore. This is a big wide path that runs along the beach, just like any other coastal town. I love this kind of walk. It’s nearly always level, sunny, loads of different architecture, the call of the sea, and the waves breaking randomly on the beach. Oh, and the crumpet as well.
St Kilda has an old pier, part burnt down in 2003, and lovingly restored as new by the people. The walk along it was a bit windy, and a couple of hundred yards long. We were able to see Jellyfish and Starfish swimming in the bay. There’s a spur runs off the end of it and the local sailors have their wee boats berthed here. Melbourne is very serious about sport and sailing would be no different. Everything these guys do seems to be done with a passion.
We started to return towards home, I was barby meister today. We’d been walking for hours and needed another wee toot and a Pizza. We called into the oldest Pizzeria in town. Topelinos. Served some lovely food by an equally lovely Irish girl, who looked like one of the Minogues?
The twenty-minute walk home was tedious. Uncle Nick had just found two big blisters on the soles of his hooves…never mind, when we get home I’ll rinse them and get to lie down for a one-hour siesta. A bit perilous with J Lag.
Nicola's shopping ethos is to buy the daily food daily. This works brilliantly although I would say at a premium, because her favourite shops aren’t cheap. There’s not even a Lidl in sight!
We got some chicken fillets and I stuffed them with Avocado and onion. Wrapped them in smoked bacon, rolled them up like sausages and whacked them onto the barby, mate.
Dinner over we sat around talking for a while. N & T have three possums sharing their back garden. We have yet to see the wee friggers, but tonight they made an appearance. Might as well not have but. The one we heard, and it was dark by this time ran along the top of the fence, into some bamboos and shook the bamboos fiercely. Then pissed off. I’m beginning to think these two have employed a midget to let on he’s a Possum. Just to scare the shit out of mum.
Tomorrow is our first winery, and T is driving so there will be loads to interest in tomorrow’s version.
Can you do me a favour dear reader? Can you let me know if this is worth doing by either sending me an email or go to the link?
I’m really sorry you are all feeling the cold, but hey, I’d to put up with J Lag to do this………..
At that time of the day it was pushing 16° and we ( M was up as well ) needed a coffee or tea. Nicola and Trevor have an all singing all dancing coffee machine. According to your taste you hit a button and there you are. A perfect coffee. Only thing is though, it starts the process by grinding the beans. Have you any idea of the flippin noise that makes at this time of the morning? So it was tea then.
I chose this early hour to write the Blog, because of the quiet. Except for the chorus of singers sitting high in the branches outside, there is only the sound of the fridge. The only thing working at this time of day.
The sun is pouring through the wide wall of floor to ceiling windows and getting a tad warm. Not to mention the pain in the bum trying to see the screen, and stop myself from taking the laptop into the garden and doing this. Wonder what the neighbour would think if she saw me tapping away at six in the morning?
The troops stirred, time for breakfast and hopefully get the two birds out onto the street. This was our second full day, and we decided to do St Kilda beach and St Kilda gardens.
The gardens were a let down, it’s the height of summer here and the grass and vegetation are showing signs of bad nerves. It’s harsh here; when so many humans need so much water, plants take a second or third seat. They have a mini Botanical garden a fraction of the far more elaborate one in our hometown. The conservatory was built in 1990 and looks and feels at least 20 years older.
We proceeded in an orderly fashion me lewd, to the Acland Street area. Under no circumstances can our Kim or the kids come here. Nearly every other shop for a good two hundred yards is a cake shop. And what cakes? Wee articles of sheer beauty that you shove down your neck. Marvellous. After having just a coffee on the kerbside we went for a look around Luna Park. A funfair dating back a century; mind you some of the original bits are still there. And that’s just the staff in their cute purple suits.
24° is not a big lot, either at home nor on the Costas’. Here it’s bit different, it seems a good 6 or so degrees warmer. There are those that say the ozone is non-existent down here. Well if it’s missing I personally blame the Eastern Europeans. I went to get a haircut yesterday and the nearest barber was good, but Eastern European. Three chairs, three barbers zero conversations. A guy came in to the seat beside me and remarked to the barber girl about the hot weather. “ It’s summer,” she groaned, “What do you expect?” Anyway, that was first thing this morning. Who said, “You’re not going out with hair like that”? Mmm.
So we went from Luna Park, well famous and well old, to the foreshore. This is a big wide path that runs along the beach, just like any other coastal town. I love this kind of walk. It’s nearly always level, sunny, loads of different architecture, the call of the sea, and the waves breaking randomly on the beach. Oh, and the crumpet as well.
St Kilda has an old pier, part burnt down in 2003, and lovingly restored as new by the people. The walk along it was a bit windy, and a couple of hundred yards long. We were able to see Jellyfish and Starfish swimming in the bay. There’s a spur runs off the end of it and the local sailors have their wee boats berthed here. Melbourne is very serious about sport and sailing would be no different. Everything these guys do seems to be done with a passion.
We started to return towards home, I was barby meister today. We’d been walking for hours and needed another wee toot and a Pizza. We called into the oldest Pizzeria in town. Topelinos. Served some lovely food by an equally lovely Irish girl, who looked like one of the Minogues?
The twenty-minute walk home was tedious. Uncle Nick had just found two big blisters on the soles of his hooves…never mind, when we get home I’ll rinse them and get to lie down for a one-hour siesta. A bit perilous with J Lag.
Nicola's shopping ethos is to buy the daily food daily. This works brilliantly although I would say at a premium, because her favourite shops aren’t cheap. There’s not even a Lidl in sight!
We got some chicken fillets and I stuffed them with Avocado and onion. Wrapped them in smoked bacon, rolled them up like sausages and whacked them onto the barby, mate.
Dinner over we sat around talking for a while. N & T have three possums sharing their back garden. We have yet to see the wee friggers, but tonight they made an appearance. Might as well not have but. The one we heard, and it was dark by this time ran along the top of the fence, into some bamboos and shook the bamboos fiercely. Then pissed off. I’m beginning to think these two have employed a midget to let on he’s a Possum. Just to scare the shit out of mum.
Tomorrow is our first winery, and T is driving so there will be loads to interest in tomorrow’s version.
Can you do me a favour dear reader? Can you let me know if this is worth doing by either sending me an email or go to the link?
I’m really sorry you are all feeling the cold, but hey, I’d to put up with J Lag to do this………..
Settlin' in
Who in their right mind gets up at four in the morning?
Me.
It can’t be helped, honest.
This is what jetlag is all about.
I thought it was just going to be dehydration and something like a huge hangover. I’ve had both and dealt with them. Being wide awake and extremely mindful of others in the house at four in the morning is not nice. Especially if they have to get up for, and go and do a days work.
Creeping about like a hallucinating burglar, is just marginally better than lying wide awake in bed with the rhythmic snorting from a foot away! At least I don’t snore when I’m awake!
So, the sun came up but it was hard to see, because of the low clouds. It was a dreary sort of start to the day but we’d no plans made so no problem.
After faffing about, and getting Trev out to work we decided to go downtown Melbourne.
Melbourne is a great place. It’s home to five million souls, very few of them indigenous and not many more true Australians.
There must be a powerful lot of empty houses in China and all around the far east. This is a true quote from Charles De Gaulle
"China is a big country, inhabited by many Chinese".
This is a true quote from Nick Pearce
"Australia is a bigger country inhabited by many more Chinese"
There’s a severe housing shortage in Oz. What does that tell you. The government are letting two thousand foreigners in each month, to stay. And that’s just in Melbourne. Friggin crazy.
We boarded the train, an excellant way to see any city, with no clear plan in mind except to go for a coffee in one of the famous lanes.
Most of the major cities here were founded on the backs of Penal Colonies. This caused the towns of that time to be sort of thrown together, mixed up. Not Melbourne though. It is built in a grid system, every area clearly defined.
There are many beautiful sights to see here. Some of the prettiest have only two legs and there are loads of them. This is a city of beautiful people. It’s also a city of diverse cultures and traditions. There are more Chinese here than in Belfast.
We got on one of the free trams that take visitors all round the city. There are buses that do this as well. Free transport for the visiting masses. Can you imagine this in Belfast? Every wee gobsh1te and his uncle would be on them constantly. Talking of which. Belfast, out as far as House of sport, Forestside, and Glengormley would sit neatly in the Central Business District.
After about half an hour cruising round the town we came across the Dockside area. In a former life, sailing must have featured in my life. Dearies. I’m always drawn to water, even if there has to be whiskey in it. We jumped off the tram and went for lunch in a theme bar right at the end of the part of the area that features many fine looking restaurants. This wee bar had a micro brewery on the premises, producing some excellent ales. M had risotto, excellent and Nicola and I munched our way through brilliant fish and chips. The fish was fried in goujon style and the chips or some at least had some of the very light beer batter on them. Fair dinkum mate. See, the language is creeping in already!
We continued to look around Melbourne, and slowly pointed ourselves in the direction of Nicola’s house.
Getting home much later Trev volunteered his services as senior barby technician. A role he slid into very well. I have to be kind here as we’re going to need his services quite often. It was delicious!
The temperature climbed to 23°. A link to our temperatures can be found here.
The sun had scorched our tired bodies, the heat had stolen our energy. The voyeurism in us had taken our imagination and threw it to the wind. In other words we were knackered and Mr Bed was calling. Still we forced ourselves to stay awake, even it was only to watch the cricket. Have I told you Trevor is rather fond of the game? It was really hard to stay awake much past ten at night, but not odd, considering the time we were getting out of bed at!
Me.
It can’t be helped, honest.
This is what jetlag is all about.
I thought it was just going to be dehydration and something like a huge hangover. I’ve had both and dealt with them. Being wide awake and extremely mindful of others in the house at four in the morning is not nice. Especially if they have to get up for, and go and do a days work.
Creeping about like a hallucinating burglar, is just marginally better than lying wide awake in bed with the rhythmic snorting from a foot away! At least I don’t snore when I’m awake!
So, the sun came up but it was hard to see, because of the low clouds. It was a dreary sort of start to the day but we’d no plans made so no problem.
After faffing about, and getting Trev out to work we decided to go downtown Melbourne.
Melbourne is a great place. It’s home to five million souls, very few of them indigenous and not many more true Australians.
There must be a powerful lot of empty houses in China and all around the far east. This is a true quote from Charles De Gaulle
"China is a big country, inhabited by many Chinese".
This is a true quote from Nick Pearce
"Australia is a bigger country inhabited by many more Chinese"
There’s a severe housing shortage in Oz. What does that tell you. The government are letting two thousand foreigners in each month, to stay. And that’s just in Melbourne. Friggin crazy.
We boarded the train, an excellant way to see any city, with no clear plan in mind except to go for a coffee in one of the famous lanes.
Most of the major cities here were founded on the backs of Penal Colonies. This caused the towns of that time to be sort of thrown together, mixed up. Not Melbourne though. It is built in a grid system, every area clearly defined.
There are many beautiful sights to see here. Some of the prettiest have only two legs and there are loads of them. This is a city of beautiful people. It’s also a city of diverse cultures and traditions. There are more Chinese here than in Belfast.
We got on one of the free trams that take visitors all round the city. There are buses that do this as well. Free transport for the visiting masses. Can you imagine this in Belfast? Every wee gobsh1te and his uncle would be on them constantly. Talking of which. Belfast, out as far as House of sport, Forestside, and Glengormley would sit neatly in the Central Business District.
After about half an hour cruising round the town we came across the Dockside area. In a former life, sailing must have featured in my life. Dearies. I’m always drawn to water, even if there has to be whiskey in it. We jumped off the tram and went for lunch in a theme bar right at the end of the part of the area that features many fine looking restaurants. This wee bar had a micro brewery on the premises, producing some excellent ales. M had risotto, excellent and Nicola and I munched our way through brilliant fish and chips. The fish was fried in goujon style and the chips or some at least had some of the very light beer batter on them. Fair dinkum mate. See, the language is creeping in already!
We continued to look around Melbourne, and slowly pointed ourselves in the direction of Nicola’s house.
Getting home much later Trev volunteered his services as senior barby technician. A role he slid into very well. I have to be kind here as we’re going to need his services quite often. It was delicious!
The temperature climbed to 23°. A link to our temperatures can be found here.
The sun had scorched our tired bodies, the heat had stolen our energy. The voyeurism in us had taken our imagination and threw it to the wind. In other words we were knackered and Mr Bed was calling. Still we forced ourselves to stay awake, even it was only to watch the cricket. Have I told you Trevor is rather fond of the game? It was really hard to stay awake much past ten at night, but not odd, considering the time we were getting out of bed at!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Travlin On.....
This is the story of two ould farts going to visit their daughter and her partner in Melbourne Australia.
A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.” – John Steinbeck
That wee quote sums it all up, especially if you’re gonna be in a large tin can for more than a day.
We started our travels on a very cold January evening, flying into Heathrow at ten pm. Our first flight of the trip was delayed partly by having to de ice the wings on the plane, and partly because that's the way the airlines work. I think it's great that a flight can be delayed by forty minutes but arrive only fifteen minutes late! I remember on flight from Belfast to East Midlands we were delayed almost an hour. The pilot came on at the end of the flight and told us he had found a shortcut and got us in quicker. How the fuck can you shorten a straight line?
Anyway. Bla bla bla. Stayed in a hotel in Heathrow and got up at five thirty for the fifteen minute bus trip to terminal four. Checking in was simplicity itself. The staff was really pleasant and helpful. This I thought, boded well. We were flying with Etihad Airways and if they were all as nice as these guys it would be a doddle. You've heard the saying "spoke to soon”? Well not me sweetheart. I chose this airline to take us to the other side of mother earth, the down side. Not because they were the best, fastest, or even sexiest. No. Because they were about thirty five percent cheaper than their nearest competitor. I questioned sometimes the wisdom of entrusting my good wife in the hands of a cheap company to take her all that way. Then I thought, shit I've been doing it for years, lets boogie.
The flight from Heathrow to Abu Dhabi was delayed for fifty minutes, we're friggin veterans at delays now.
More de-icing, it was like undressing a wedding cake! The pilot came on and announced that we would have a nice (is there any other kind?) tail wind and the flight would last a mere six hours and five minutes. Hooray, we were off. I’m always amazed at how those big tin cans get off the ground and even better, stay off it for a long period of time.The journey went well, no bumps or swerves. Plenty of nice grub, and even more free drink. The staff was all charmers, except for the one that wouldn’t let me join the mile high club. On my own!I hadn’t mentioned cigarettes the whole way down. Margaret was wearing nicotine patches; about twelve I think, and seemed to be coping well.
We got into Abu Dhabi airport, through all the rigmarole but as we were transiting, it was a gift. No customs or luggage grabbing. Straight through to our next gate via duty-free. We got to the hub of the sales area and detected a strong smell of ciggy smoke. M’s nose was like radar seeking out the source of Val halla, and lo and behold a smoking room beside a bar. Such joy. I’d no Arabic dollars, not the sort of currency one carries. M went into the smokey room and joined several towel headed smokers while I went in search of some liquid. The bar did indeed take sterling at a price. £15 for a pint and g & t only a splash mind you. We’d only been drinking wine on the plane, beer up there is never the same. This meant the drinks were magical, but at fifteen quid, one round would suffice until the plane.
Onto a new plane. Obviously you have to pass through business class to get to cattle class. Our seats were nineteen something and M thought the luxury seats come beds were for us. Alas no my dear “ Keep walking” I said as I watched her eyeing hungrily the business class seating arrangements. This was to be a fourteen-hour epic. We’d all the stuff, books, magazines, noise reducing head phones, Nintendo, neck cushions, sleeping tablets, the stuff the airline gives you. Blanket, eye covers uppers, toothbrush, and inconsiderate old bitches in the two seats in front. I wanted to insert my toothbrush up the crevice of the person fully reclined in front of me. This was throughout most of the flight. The first hour she was normal, like me. I had to put my seat back to able to focus on the screen in front of me. It’s hard to see much when it’s only a few inches in front of your eyes. Forgot to mention the one-hour delay on this flight.
The flight was good, we even flew over Goa but couldn’t see much from 39000 feet at one in the morning their time. The sun rose to another day high above Sri Lanka. You may well ask how I got this information, well dear readers; it was because I was awake. Slept for no more that ten minutes at a time. On the way back home I’ll make a sleeping tablet sandwich. One of those wee fekkers is no good to anyone.
There’s a very strong chance that my readers are fast falling asleep right now. Reading this diatribe. Well my dears, I’m not. Yesterday I awoke at four and that was I for the day. Today I got a lie in. Didn’t getup until four forty-five. As I write this at six in the morning on Nicola / Twevs patio, the Oz birdies are singing merrily, they’re the only merry fekkers at this time of day. The sun is shining, it’s eighteen degrees. In the distance I hear a train a coming, blowing its horn. There’s a tram nearby, the birds are getting louder. Tell me this. How the fuck are you meant to sleep anyway?
Back to day two. Arrived at Melbourne, just twenty minutes late and expecting a load of hassle from the immigration. No logical reason for this. Anyway, sailed through customs and immigration. Waiting for the luggage and these two dogs, real ones, not their handlers, appeared and went up and down the lines of already tired irritable punters. Sniffing and wagging their wee tails in a frenzy. I bent over as if to stroke the wee spaniel and it’s female handler glared at me. She was obviously a jealous type, because I can’t think of her ever getting a stroking.
At last the travelling over, Nicola and Twev stood before us. They marvelled at how unscathed wee looked, how fresh, how invigorated. Not. It was unbelievably good to be down under, no more cramped seating and no more free drink.
Not for another eight weeks.
Day two to follow.
If you’re getting bored, please write unsubscribe on a twenty pound note and send it to...
A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.” – John Steinbeck
That wee quote sums it all up, especially if you’re gonna be in a large tin can for more than a day.
We started our travels on a very cold January evening, flying into Heathrow at ten pm. Our first flight of the trip was delayed partly by having to de ice the wings on the plane, and partly because that's the way the airlines work. I think it's great that a flight can be delayed by forty minutes but arrive only fifteen minutes late! I remember on flight from Belfast to East Midlands we were delayed almost an hour. The pilot came on at the end of the flight and told us he had found a shortcut and got us in quicker. How the fuck can you shorten a straight line?
Anyway. Bla bla bla. Stayed in a hotel in Heathrow and got up at five thirty for the fifteen minute bus trip to terminal four. Checking in was simplicity itself. The staff was really pleasant and helpful. This I thought, boded well. We were flying with Etihad Airways and if they were all as nice as these guys it would be a doddle. You've heard the saying "spoke to soon”? Well not me sweetheart. I chose this airline to take us to the other side of mother earth, the down side. Not because they were the best, fastest, or even sexiest. No. Because they were about thirty five percent cheaper than their nearest competitor. I questioned sometimes the wisdom of entrusting my good wife in the hands of a cheap company to take her all that way. Then I thought, shit I've been doing it for years, lets boogie.
The flight from Heathrow to Abu Dhabi was delayed for fifty minutes, we're friggin veterans at delays now.
More de-icing, it was like undressing a wedding cake! The pilot came on and announced that we would have a nice (is there any other kind?) tail wind and the flight would last a mere six hours and five minutes. Hooray, we were off. I’m always amazed at how those big tin cans get off the ground and even better, stay off it for a long period of time.The journey went well, no bumps or swerves. Plenty of nice grub, and even more free drink. The staff was all charmers, except for the one that wouldn’t let me join the mile high club. On my own!I hadn’t mentioned cigarettes the whole way down. Margaret was wearing nicotine patches; about twelve I think, and seemed to be coping well.
We got into Abu Dhabi airport, through all the rigmarole but as we were transiting, it was a gift. No customs or luggage grabbing. Straight through to our next gate via duty-free. We got to the hub of the sales area and detected a strong smell of ciggy smoke. M’s nose was like radar seeking out the source of Val halla, and lo and behold a smoking room beside a bar. Such joy. I’d no Arabic dollars, not the sort of currency one carries. M went into the smokey room and joined several towel headed smokers while I went in search of some liquid. The bar did indeed take sterling at a price. £15 for a pint and g & t only a splash mind you. We’d only been drinking wine on the plane, beer up there is never the same. This meant the drinks were magical, but at fifteen quid, one round would suffice until the plane.
Onto a new plane. Obviously you have to pass through business class to get to cattle class. Our seats were nineteen something and M thought the luxury seats come beds were for us. Alas no my dear “ Keep walking” I said as I watched her eyeing hungrily the business class seating arrangements. This was to be a fourteen-hour epic. We’d all the stuff, books, magazines, noise reducing head phones, Nintendo, neck cushions, sleeping tablets, the stuff the airline gives you. Blanket, eye covers uppers, toothbrush, and inconsiderate old bitches in the two seats in front. I wanted to insert my toothbrush up the crevice of the person fully reclined in front of me. This was throughout most of the flight. The first hour she was normal, like me. I had to put my seat back to able to focus on the screen in front of me. It’s hard to see much when it’s only a few inches in front of your eyes. Forgot to mention the one-hour delay on this flight.
The flight was good, we even flew over Goa but couldn’t see much from 39000 feet at one in the morning their time. The sun rose to another day high above Sri Lanka. You may well ask how I got this information, well dear readers; it was because I was awake. Slept for no more that ten minutes at a time. On the way back home I’ll make a sleeping tablet sandwich. One of those wee fekkers is no good to anyone.
There’s a very strong chance that my readers are fast falling asleep right now. Reading this diatribe. Well my dears, I’m not. Yesterday I awoke at four and that was I for the day. Today I got a lie in. Didn’t getup until four forty-five. As I write this at six in the morning on Nicola / Twevs patio, the Oz birdies are singing merrily, they’re the only merry fekkers at this time of day. The sun is shining, it’s eighteen degrees. In the distance I hear a train a coming, blowing its horn. There’s a tram nearby, the birds are getting louder. Tell me this. How the fuck are you meant to sleep anyway?
Back to day two. Arrived at Melbourne, just twenty minutes late and expecting a load of hassle from the immigration. No logical reason for this. Anyway, sailed through customs and immigration. Waiting for the luggage and these two dogs, real ones, not their handlers, appeared and went up and down the lines of already tired irritable punters. Sniffing and wagging their wee tails in a frenzy. I bent over as if to stroke the wee spaniel and it’s female handler glared at me. She was obviously a jealous type, because I can’t think of her ever getting a stroking.
At last the travelling over, Nicola and Twev stood before us. They marvelled at how unscathed wee looked, how fresh, how invigorated. Not. It was unbelievably good to be down under, no more cramped seating and no more free drink.
Not for another eight weeks.
Day two to follow.
If you’re getting bored, please write unsubscribe on a twenty pound note and send it to...
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