What Happened Next

Don’t you hate returning from holiday? Always such a feeling of coming down, plus having to wind yourself up again for work. Never mind. Consequently I’d actually got something arranged for the Sunday after dropping back into Adelaide. Saturday night was enough time to get the washing done.

By being away that weekend, I’d managed to miss everyone doing their primary exams. I’d also missed the evening out on Friday. But Jo wanted to go out for a walk on Sunday. In the end there were 5 of us (Me, Jo & Seb, Ina and Janneke) and we went up to Black Hill, which is just around the corner from Amber’s Gully. A quick walk considering Ina was working at 2.

I had to take the car back to the rental company on Sunday morning (Adelaide is so much the centre of things that they close at 2:30 on a Saturday). I was slightly early and Jo & Seb were late, so I had 30 min standing on the street corner waiting for them. Good job it was 9am on that particular street corner, although it would be providing a pretty specialised service wearing walking boots and a rucksack. I guess you never know.

The walk was a simple, but long drag upwards to the summit of Black Hill, which isn’t much special but does have spectacular views over the city. Down was actually initially like walking in the UK, a steep, rocky path along a narrow shoulder through the trees. Obviously no problems there until I got onto the flatter, well-made path and I managed to turn my ankle on a random tree root.

Thankfully we were not far from the car park, and I eventually managed to hobble (and swear) my way back to the car after the obligatory lying on the floor while my blood pressure came back up. Happens everytime, and there was no coke machine this time to provide temporary ice packs.

Oh well. We went into North Adelaide for a pretty good dinner afterwards. Great place (even if the service is a little slow) which has a deli with tasting tables attached. The sort of place you could sit for hours and just read the papers on a Sunday. It was getting cold by this time, the sun was long gone and possibly the fact that we move tables to sit inside contributed to the wait. The chicken / sumac salad was good, though.

The next challenge was limping round Coles. Obviously having been away for 10 days meant that I had very limited food in, certainly not enough for evenings. Even the freezer was running low. For once I actually bought chocolate. Just had to, really.

Monday morning, quite predictably, and my ankle was too stiff to walk on, even after pain killers. So one phone call later... and by the evening I was bored silly. That explains why I’ve got back on Facebook quite so much. Although not working the evening meant that I managed to see the last part of Sinchronicity, which I started watching before leaving the UK but had missed most of.

I was working the weekend, too (penalty for having a holiday). For lots of very irritating reasons I didn’t leave work until 2 on Monday morning . Mainly because the CT radiographer went home just before doing the scan we wanted and we had to wait an hour for the next one to come in. Particularly annoying as the patient turned out to have much worse injuries than it looked like he had. Grrr.

Back at work on Tuesday evening, although I swapped sides to spend most of the evening sitting down. And driving home was a challenge. A combination being tired (finishing at midnight), trying to protect my ankle and having driven around 1000 miles in an automatic car. Could I work out why I kept stalling every time I hit the brakes? I’m cursing having a manual car currently.

The rest if the week was full on, just one of those weeks where most people are away and the same faces keep turning up for shifts. Except the Registrars many of who managed to phone in sick. I did manage a night out on Friday. Ina and I went to the pictures to see “The Black Balloon”, which sounds very dour (it’s about the family of an autistic man), but I would definitely recommend if it gets released in the UK. After that we went for a beer and then curry. And I knew that wearing heels would be a Bad Thing, but sometimes you just have to wear blue shoes. (And sometimes I just have to feel a bit taller.)

Monday and Tuesday were days off, and I spent a lot of them cooking. I made the curry I’d been promising to cook for a long time – found a recipe for Pathia in my spice book which is probably my favourite curry, and Ina came over on Monday night. Knowing she likes baked cheesecake, I thought I’d try one of them, too. I’ve had the recipe for years; never tried it. Interesting. Particularly as I couldn’t find cream cheese as I’d know it and had to use creamed cottage cheese instead. Lots more stirring needed. But it tasted OK.

Friday (today – this is being written in bits) is Anzac day. It’s so much more full-on than Nov 11th (although I imagine that this year Remembrance Day may be bigger as it’s 90 years since WWI). There are overnight vigils, dawn services here and in Europe / Turkey and the TV is full of it. Maybe it’s part of being such a young country with such a wide national base and trying to mark a place in the world. But to my cynical British eyes, it’s almost incomprehensible that these events are so marked with such patriotism. I understand that Gallipoli was the first time the ANZACs really fought (we watched the film at school) and there was little before. Veterans are held in much higher regard here, too. (Peterborough and RAF-Wittering-uniform-wearing anyone?). There was a march in town, and obviously Jeffo is there (which I’d forgotten until I saw him and Krystal at Ina’s place) but part of me feels that it is none of my business, really. A bit like wandering into the middle of someone else’s church service.

So Ina and I went for a (very gentle) walk. Actually the ankle wasn’t too bad, but obviously it doesn’t really like uneven ground and won’t for a while. Maybe it’s time to finally get some physio and try and stop this happening yet again.

And now I’m eating rye bread and feta cheese and looking for recipes to cook rabbit.

South South Australia - Nearly Home

After not a bad night (the switching relay for the fridges was outside the room, but I had earplugs so it was OK – and I won’t complain about anything that keeps the beer), I had breakfast in the pub in a room with the original fireplace and range. Plus original white bread and marg.

I was out early and drive down to the beaches. There are two, the lagoon which is gentle and sheltered, and the ocean beach where you can’t swim but is gorgeous with slivers and greens. Can you tell I liked Nelson?

Across the border and I drove down to Port MacDonnell to find a bottle of water. I couldn’t work out why everything was closed (“God-forsaken tiny little hamlet”) until I drove up the road to Allendale where there was a clock in the store. SA is half an hour behind Vic. Back to having all clocks / watches on different times. Even my Adelaide ones were wrong. Mystery solved.

So it was half an hour earlier than I expected when I got to my first destination. Mount Shank. No, I’d never heard of it either, It’s the most recent volcano to have erupted in Aus (about 5000 yrs ago), and is now dormant / extinct. It unexpectedly rises above the flat coastal plain. The book says it’s a hard climb, but it wasn’t too bad with stairs the whole way and I declined the generous and tempting offer from the copious benches the whole way up. Around the rim of the crater and you see the path down. It’s 1.2km down and back and looks v steep. So I thought I’d only go halfway. Of course, halfway down and I’d done the worst of it so I might as well carry on. Who am I trying to kid? I knew all along that’d be the case.

At the bottom was a pile of stones, all pumice and ridiculously light. There was also a bush that looked suspiciously like an apple tree. . I passed a Dad and 2 kids on their way down. Great place to take them. Back up, and the whole extra excursion had only taken 20 minutes. The walk round the rest of the edge was getting windy and the sky was blackening. Once again, it started raining as I was driving away.

Into Mount Gambier – which actually does have a mountain. Actually it’s another volcano with a collection of craters. One contains the blue lake which is currently on its seasonal change to grey, and the sky didn’t help either. At the lookout above it, I found a board with walks round the other crater which contains 2 or 3 other, smaller lakes. Lots of up and the weather had turned lousy – raining until I out my jacket on, then it would stop until I took it off, blustery. The highest point is a tower and it was very exposed and not warm by the time I made that.

It turns out that it’s 4.5km round the large hole in the ground – I did it in 75min. Not the 2 hours suggested, and definitely not the 45 min suggested for the unmarked walk that I thought I was on. For the final bit I climbed up a steep ash concrete wall. There were no steps – it can’t have been an official path. There was no way I going to walk round the blue lake as well. It was wet and that was along the road, so I drove it.

I went into Mt Gambier for food. Down the alleyway from the car park I was accosted by a very smug man in a Drizabone. No I don’t want whatever you’re selling. Whether it’s the chance to invest in a child in Africa or the chance at eternal happiness. Opposite was the “OK Pie shop”. Yep, sums it up. I’ve never seen a chicken pie so yellow. I’m guessing that’s the colour of whatever brand of cream of chicken soup they used for a sauce (that’s what it tasted like). Anyway, it was warm. The queue was huge so there must have been something in them.

There were a couple of other things to see there. I went to the caves first, but the tour had just started so I drove down to the sinkhole. That’s cool. It’s a sunken, landscaped garden about 40’ below the earth and about 60’ diameter. Very strange. Back to the caves and I was the only one on the tour. To be honest they weren’t really worth it, but they were dry. That was the problem – dry caves have no stalactites / -gmites. There are piles of rubbish as that’s what they originally used for. The most remarkable thing about them are the deep pools of clear blue water. They’re better if you have scuba gear strapped to your back and about 10 years of training, apparently. When I got out, there was a note on the door saying that the tour before mine would be the last of the day.

I drove on, up the coast in the rain, to Southend. The land was much, much drier, arable farms and a few pine plantations (which do very kindly say in which year the trees were planted so you all know). Another tiny fishing village (pop. 298), which was just inside Cape Buffon. It’s still limestone (that’s the name of the area – the Limestone Coast), but much lower cliffs with formations that look much further along the process of wearing away until there are sharp, thin edges and almost lacy caves in the platforms. The strata are thinner too, and point up diagonally. It was pouring, so I sat in the car for 5-10’ until there was a let up. A surprising number of vehicles came up, sat for a couple of minutes and drove off. Not tourists, either. When I left the car, I did the walk backwards, doing the rocks first in case I had to backtrack.

However, despite being v wet, the sun eventually managed to force thin rays through. The bright green new growth shone against the black of the wet wood. The local gums were in flower. The rocks are quite a surprising pink, and one stack looked like a chess knight. Again there was a large number of small birds, that started to creep out as the light brightened. That walk only took half the time suggested, and I was off again.

I drove up into Robe, along the road past several lakes. All of them were very shrunken from the drought. For the first time, I was tired as I stopped and there was no way I was going to press on to Kingston. I stopped at the closest motel into town that had a restaurant. It was a small room (not that small), but the first one with a sofa.

I had a shower and wondered into town to find a bank. The first place without a Westpac, should have thought about that. It got dark early (obviously, given the change in time zone). I ate in the restaurant. The owner was the waiter, one man in the kitchen who was also the odd-job man for the place. The food was OK, and all of us ended up talking in the dining room while we ate. The couple behind me were planning to watch Midsomer Murders (that is so popular over here), so an easy ice breaker. They were driving back to Melbourne from the Barossa.

Robe is a small town. There’s one street with shops and a couple behind for people to actually live on. A small beach and a marina, then a road out to Cape Dombey. There’s a obelisk there (probably a transit), now on a stack, that’s the symbol of Robe. It won’t be for much longer. In fact, it won’t be there for much longer. I drove out to see this (2 min drive) before breakfast. I ate in the Robe Providore – and I’d defo recommend the granola and compote. The compote was particularly good (and I managed to get the recipe. Have to try, see if I can get anywhere near replicating it). I put fuel in again at Robe and was amused to see the couple from the room next door to me. It was drizzling slightly as I drove into Kingston SE (assuming there are other Kingston’s that it would be embarrassing to confuse with it). There’s only one giant orange lobster. Why? That’s why have one at all, not “why aren’t there more?”

I had to stop for some reason (can’t remember why), so I thought it would be a good opportunity when I saw a brown tourist sign. “The Granites” I had to have a look, so after 3 miles of bumping down stony track, I saw them. 5 Granite boulders. Excellent. Actually, the beach was lovely, but that’s not the point.

I went for a walk up Salt Creek (which doesn’t actually flow, but is more of a pond). Well, I combined a couple to make it a decent length. Up one side between freshwater lakes protected from the sea by the dunes and by the long saltwater lagoon that is the Coorong. There were birds on it (black swans, shelduck, teals and a grey heron). At the end the path appears to lead round in a loop and back, but there is actually a very small line of stepping stones across. Then it leads into wattle scrub and to the picnic area. The sun was coming out, a perfect arc of cloud overhead as that front cleared. The next clouds were close behind, but it got warm for a while.The nature walk (with little labels and boards telling you what things are) runs past Pipeclay Lake which dried up bed is white clay. The water was about 500m out, a small stripe of it. With the clay shining silver in the sun under the grey sky and the dark trees the other side, it was almost monochrome except for the pinks, purple and reds of the samphire and other succulents (which turn red as they accumulate salt). The other way the colours were vivid – blue sky, gold and green foliage and more pinks on the ground. Round the corner was the Halite (ie salt) Lake, which was pink from the algae.

Then back to the creek, down the “birdwatching” leg. This was mostly sand and for some of it I didn’t need waymarkers as there were only my own footprints to follow. It’s a good job. The posts only seemed to be sited where the path was obvious, not at the points where it got rocky and could have led in any one of a number of ways. A board described a couple of birds and their calls, and as the sun went name, they all suddenly started singing. As I got back to the roadhouse where the car was parked, the couple from the hostel had just arrived. I didn’t have to pass them again as they were still reading the boards by the fake oil well when I left.

Once again it started to rain, gently. This part of the road the Coorong was visible. Instead of a deep clear lake supporting birds, including Pelicans, it’s a sandy solution that’s a muddy green. The pelicans went some time ago, apparently, and this drought isn’t helping.

Into Meningie and past Lake Albert. Meningie really is small – it’s interesting seeing the places that the patients come from. I stopped to get a sandwich from the bakery and ate it by the lake (well, by the beach by the lake, the levels are so low – it’s as bad as it looks when flying over to Melbourne), beating away the gulls. From there I had the choice of going round to Goolwa or straight up. So close to home, and I didn’t want to hang around. Besides I’ve always wanted to see what’s at Tailem Bend. I imagine it just a bend in the road with a roadhouse.

So north. The land was dead flat, the cloud studded blue sky behind me making it look completely different, more inviting. (But you can’t look back because you’re always looking through what’s come afterwards). The road was straight, between bare, parched hills with dead trees sticking up. Where small ponds should be were just sandy patches.

Tailem Bend is actually a bend in the River Murray, which is set down into a valley. There’s slightly more to it than I imagined, and it’s the start of the South East Expressway which drops me into Adelaide at Portrush road that runs past the house. So onwards. A small detour to see Murray Bridge (just to see if it’s as dire as the reviews). Just before is a lookout. Given my previous experiences I had to see. It’s great. It looks out over the expressway, the river bridge and a few caravan parks.

There’s a great game to be had if there’s a couple of you driving through SA. Each alternate in picking a random brown sign to a tourist “attraction”. Then you give it points out of 10 for things like attractiveness, value, relevance etc The winner is the person who gets the Lowest score.

Murray Bridge itself. Has to be one of the most inspiring places I’ve ever been to. There’s, um, a bridge. Actually there’s two. One for the railway and it’s the first place the Murray was bridged. So I drove over the bridge. Then I drove back. Then I stopped in the park, walked down the hill, back up, in the car and drove off. It was that good. I need to be careful, I won’t be let back into SA by the tourist board if I carry on.

Back on the expressway, cruise control on. The back of the Adelaide hills are bare, grassland and remind me of the M6 over the Pennines. Even down to where the road splits (but no house in the middle). Then the trees start. I swung off through Mt Barker. No specific mountain here, but v pretty. And half an hour later I was slowing down to go past Eagle-on-the-Hill, through the tunnels and I was on Portrush. It was about half four. And it was so tempting just to get a cup of tea and to drive off again.

GOR 2

This waking early was, by now, getting to be an irritating habit. There were very few places for breakfast (ie one) so I opted for a takeaway coffee and cake (“lemon slice” which I had correctly identified as containing no lemon) from the bakery and ate sitting in the small garden outside the room. I was on the road by 8:50, intending to break the back of the driving.


Actually there were lots of stops for more features. The Arch, London Bridge (closed for renovation – and irritatingly people were walking all over the regeneration areas on the cliff edges to get photos). Through Peterborough, which as you drive in across an estuary that looks very much like the fens. Then you see the cliff top golf course and the sea, and the fact that there are only about 40 houses and it’s nothing like, really. The other side is the Bay of Martyrs which wasn’t in the book and I did actually pull a U-turn to go back and see (I was less than 50yds past the turn when I saw the view). With a steely blue sky behind the stacks and the sun shining on the gold limestone, it was quite something. A perfect light for it. The Bay of Islands was similar (much better than the Apostles), and the Crags which was once an aboriginal site.

Then I was in Warrnambool and it was the end of the Great Ocean Road. And the end of the map, so my mission was to find one. . I took the “scenic route” in, which wasn’t too much of detour and ran past Bluehole beach and across the river mouth. When I found town (the “City Centre”), I parked up. At first all I found was cafés, but there was a bookshop further up the hill.

Out of Warrnambool is all farmland and the road leads quite a way from the coast. It was intermittently raining. Past Tower Hill Nature Reserve, which I didn’t stop at, but is a pretty amazing volcanic crater. I had been wondering where in Aus the old volcanoes were (don’t ask why) – turns out they’re on the Vic-SA border. Past Port Fairey, looking for fuel – which is difficult as the petrol stations aren’t well marked until you see the pumps as you drive past. In fact they’re often at the village shop or Post Office.


I found fuel in Portland. That is a little like its namesake – at the end of a Limestone area, industrial port. I also found food (an organic sandwich shop – worth finding). Then I had to find somewhere to eat. Just out of Portland is Cape Bridgewater with a host of features. Lots of Geology on this holiday. At the top of the cliff is an extremely barren area with loose rocks and the occasional tuft of wiry grass. There is a lookout over a “blowhole”, although it is long collapsed. There is also a “petrified forest” which is actually a huge (many yards square) collection of “solution tubes” where the carbonic acid from the rain has run down tree roots. The trees are long gone, and there is just a collection of smooth tubes about the diameter of a tree trunk. It’s a bizarre place. I ate by the beach, another perfect horseshoe of pale sand, turquoise – petrol sea with white foam and silvery plants. By this time, the sky was a dome of blue with the pale grey clouds scudding across from the dunes to the sunset coloured cliffs. There was a flock of plovers (rare) on the beach, that would run upwards every time a larger wave came and threatened to wet their feet. Then they suddenly all scattered and there was a black kite overhead.


I had to leave, really. Sadly. The road ran through plantations of Firs and trees with new growth so green that the brightness almost hurt the eyes. The clouds had gone and it was warm. I took a detour up the Dartmouth road to a small picnic area by the Lower Glenelg River and ate my cake by a small weir.

I was just outside Nelson and drove in to have a look. Debating whether to stop there or push on into SA (the aim of the day) to Mount Gambier, I stopped in the tourist information. “Well, Mount Gambier is a city” she said.

Anyway, looking at the sun on the lagoon, I decided to stay there for the night. Asking at the Nelson hotel (the local pub), the Landlord said he could do a suite for $110 or a room for $40 ($60 if I wanted a twin). But the bathroom was across the hall. As I was the only one staying there, it really didn’t matter.


It was only half three, so I decided to try and get to the caves just up the road. Across typical SA dirt roads, running up along the border, and along the gorge. I did make the caves in time, but they don’t do tours of one. The was an Adventure Tours group there (a 30 day trip), so I chatted with the guide while I waited to see if anyone else pitched up. They had spent the evening before at the Bay of Martyrs, which really shows that the Apostles aren’t the best place.
No-one else did turn up so I just took a wonder to the gorge. Big grey kangaroos in the bush, and a myriad tiny birds fluttered around. Absolutely beautiful.


When I got back to Nelson I walked down to the lagoon, then round the beach road a bit. A rookie birdwatchers paradise (as in even I could identify most of the birds). I only got halfway to the beach, instead I turned back and went to sit on the jetty as the sun went down and the swallows again swooped. So peaceful.

I had dinner in the pub. Not wanting chips again, I went for the veg pizza. More accurately a cheese pizza. Too much even for me. Afterwards I went for another drink in the bar and spent the time chatting to the barman (who was wanting to sell up his house and go travelling somewhere). Eventually a very slurred local came up and was trying to persuade me of the barman’s good qualities. The only problem was that he was too drunk to know what the word “quality” meant.

The bar was emptying out so I went to bed.

The Great Ocean Road... Finally...Part 1

I’ve finally done it. After months of finding better things to do with my holiday.

I was even at the market before half the stalls were open. That’s a never-to-be-repeated first. Managed to find some apples (apparently they’re the new superfood), some bread and cheese.

The car was sorted out, and I picked it up just before 9. Planning to hire a fast sporty hatchback (in lieu of the floppy-top that you can’t hire and drop off in a different place. Oh well, it’s cheaper with a roof), they proudly announced that I could have a Camry. So a bus than. And an automatic one too, with cruise control. How lazy is that? Why bother steering, even? And for a rep’s car it was, frankly, tinny. Anyway, enough. It did me 1400 km and had enough oomph to go when I needed to.

On the way out of the hotel after checking out, I noticed signs to a spa. Not really sure I’d have trusted it.

But of course that did mean leaving Melbourne in the rush hour traffic. Good choice, girl. Actually it turned out to be so, as there was hardly anything else on the roads. I imagine people either left early or waited until the rush hour was over. By luck I found my way out of Melbourne without a hitch (good signposting, again) and down to Geelong. Driving through Melbourne, there are signs to all these places you hear about on TV, mostly as places with AFL teams, but also because there is a lot more news from Victoria than SA. Places like Dandenong, Ballarat, Geelong, Essendon. (No Erinsborough, though).


I got to Geelong at about 11. It’s another town with lots of Art Deco style buildings. Australia suffers from settlement inflation. There are no villages, only towns and if you have a council office, you’re a city. I had a couple of things to buy, probably most importantly an in-car charger for the iPod. I couldn’t have coped with 5 days of Aussie radio. And a coffee. Since when was a “long black” the size of a tot of whiskey. Doesn’t the word “long” give a clue? I got out by driving along the coastline which is nicer than I was expecting from the name. I was even pretending that it was a deliberate choice until I came across a road with two different name signs.

Just outside Geelong is Torquay, which is the start of the Great Ocean Road. The road was actually built as a war memorial and at various points there are arches and plaques. Torquay is a surf town. Images of all these grey-haired grannies fitting their wetsuits area probably misplaced. Along to Anglesea and I stopped at Point Roadknight (not an RAC van in sight). But a very pretty head with long beaches limestone rocks that look like walnut shells, and sand dunes.

This is probably going to end up as a bit of a list of places. Drive, stop, take photo, drive, stop, walk, take photo, etc, etc. Next, looking for somewhere to eat, was Airey’s Inlet which is a river valley with a small wetland are and a lighthouse on the cliffs. From the top of the cliffs you can walk down to the reed beds and bird ponds (black swans, coots, ducks) and the rec where the village museum is a bark hut. Inside are brief histories of all the Airey’s Inlet families and some of the houses. Truly Local. Just off is what is probably the first of the sea stacks, which is very soft, scored gold limestone set on a solid base. Next to it is a platform where obviously another stack has not survived.

Out of Lorne, I stopped slightly inland at Erskine Falls. 38m high, they’ll probably be more dramatic in a couple of months time when there’s been more rain. The gully was very humid, surrounded by ferns and moss. I’m discovering the meaning of “bad hair afternoon”.

A few km on are the Sheoak Falls. They are completely different, much more open, dry hillside. The rocks are black. The water tumbles over silver, the pool is so dark brown that it’s almost black and the weed is invisible unless you look very hard. On the surface floats a white filigree of scum and dead, grey tree boughs stick up around the edges. The place looks almost deadly. No photos as the camera died, so I consoled myself by eating blackberries instead. I carried on up for another mile or so to the next viewpoint which is a shallow cave. After that the path was closed so it was turn round and back to the car.


The road was getting busier, now I got behind a woman who seemed to believe that the passing places (pull-overs?) didn’t apply to her. So I kept stopping to look at the view and just to avoid getting too frustrated. Obviously she was still doing 70kph in the 50 limits, too.

The road passes along the base of heavily wooded mountains as they slope down into the sea, with very pretty little bays with bright green fields where the rivers run. I stopped in Apollo Bay, which is where I was driving through just before 5 when the Tourist Info booths close. I ended up in a motel in a room on the front by the road, directly opposite the dunes. Also next to a building site, which I thought I might come to regret. But there was a laundry which solved the developing sock problem.

I walked along to the IGA to try new batteries for the camera (didn’t work), and back along the beach just as the sun had set. The colours were so delicate, like the inside of a shell and the wet sand was an almost perfect mirror. Food was at the local chippy in the hope of getting fresh fish. It was, but just too cooked and dry. And salty. Disappointing. As I lay there during the night, I could hear the waves on the beach.

Next morning I managed to awake before the workmen arrived, and lay there listening to the sea and the wind. Eventually I had a cup of tea and got moving. Along the road to a café for breakfast and the paper.

As I checked out, the owner apologised for the banging door in the night as apparently one of the other guests, who was staying another night, had complained. Maybe that was what had woken me at around 4:20, but I wasn’t sure.

I drove off to Cape Otway. The clouds were heavy but starting to thin slightly. There were more slow cars this time, obviously everyone gets moving at around 9. Cape Otway marks the end of the Bass Strait and the start of the Great Southern Ocean and has a lightstation. It’s a few miles off the road but worth a visit. In front of me a couple were taking an age to decide what souvenirs to buy, and a bloke with a NZ credit card. When I eventually got in, there was a brief walk, then an old telegraph station (no gear left). The lighthouse is another postcard favourite, now defunct and you can climb up for a look outside. The wind out at sea was probably F3-4 (white horses starting to form). There’s also a WWII radar bunker with a board explaining how all the radar stations were “inadvertently” connected together. I’m still wondering about that one. What a mistake to make, to connect everything.
The vegetation was quite amazing, scrubby bushes bent over in the wind to form an almost smooth surface. Underneath was a succulent bush with what were probably berries on, but looked like maroon pustules. The path back to the car park led briefly through the middle of the bushes.

Next was into the hills to the Otway Forest. The weather was starting to look very grey again and there were a few spots of rain. I stopped down a dirt road at the Phillips Track where there were paths to a couple of waterfalls. 2 hours to one, 1 hour to the other, so back to the car by 2. That’s fine. The path led over several ridges and through gulleys of manferns in a timeless, directionless grey-green light. Despite there being lots of up, there and back only took me an hour. The path was strewn with long rolled up sloughed off bark that looked like snakes. Paranoid? Me?


As I came back to the junction, there was a bloke standing there. It was the one from in front of me in the queue at Cape Otway. So we walked to the second falls together and chatted. He’s an RAC man from NZ on holiday for a couple of weeks. These falls was more spectacular – I definitely did them in the right order. It was humid and getting warm. The track led back past an old loco boiler and some trucks, rusting gently. In the car park he pointed out the old banger that he’d been given by the hire company after his first car had broken down. Good holiday.

As I drove past the “Otway Fly” I realised I’d forgotten to eat so I stopped there. It’s an aerial walk (not flying at all, despite what they’d have you believe), similar to the one in Tas but not quite as well explained, and not sure it was worth $20, but still. But tell me, why the large plastic dinosaurs? Apparently the trees are Mountain Ash and the tallest flowering plants in the world. Not like any Mountain Ash I know, and in fact they aren’t rowan, just another type of gum tree. That go on and on, up and up dead straight for ever.

That took 45 minutes and as I got back to the car park I noticed several cars that I had passed or seen at stopping points the day before. Back on the road, I was intending to go to “Wreck Beach” – good for photos – but there was an Australian number of signs. There were (more) roadworks and suddenly I was driving across mud and wondering how I’d managed to completely miss the road. When I came out of it, the next sign I saw was 300m (everything is 300m away) to the 12 Apostles car park and there was a big sea stack just off the cliff. I wasn’t going back (I decided right at the start that no matter what, I wouldn’t go back).


The 12 Apostles (actually some or more have fallen down) were as disappointing as I expected. It reminded me of Stonehenge, in the car park. Full of coaches, families, a modern visitors centre and an underpass to the cliffs. Because the cliffs are very unstable (that’s the side effect of having soft limestone which looks like cake), you have to keep to the path with the hoards of others. And if you’re as short as I am, at the main viewing point, you actually look through the wires. Plus the light was quite flat which didn’t help.

So I drove on to the next point. That’s a collection of features and is far more worth seeing that the Apostles. The main one is Loch Ard Gorge, which is small inlet named after the ship that foundered there with only two survivors. But there are a host of other features – the Razorback which is a very thin ridge, Muttonbird (a type of Skua) Island, the Blowhole (the look out was on top of another well eroded arch), Caves, etc, etc. There was a very large Echidna on the path, and away from the people, swallows swooped round at head height. That’s a good sign for the weather. And they can’t be proper swallows (apart from the glossy midnight blue backs and orange throats) because they were landing on the ground and able to take off again.


Into Port Campbell, and it seemed like a good place to spend the night. The first motel only had a room for $180 available so I went on up to the next, which was the one in the book. Eventually, round the corner on the campsite I found the office and the very unhappy woman behind the desk did have a room for $100 ($10 off for single travellers, which is v rare). So I took that one. As I drove up the only car in the car park outside the room next to mine, I was sure, was the scrappy Magna driven by the RAC man.

I had a shower and went out for a walk. The sunset was over but the clouds were just fading from what would have been a vibrant red and purple. It would have been worth going back to the Apostles. Never mind. I walked down to the tiny beach, then round to the jetty where several people were fishing. On the way back up the hill, I did meet the RAC man, so we decided that we might as well go for a drink and some food together. And yes that was his car. His name was Bobby (I couldn’t keep calling him the RAC man).

We went to the restaurant on the corner and started off sitting outside, over looking the harbour. Until it started raining. My tuna, with “citrus salsa” turned out to have a finely chopped fruit salad on the top (melon, kiwi, more melon). Different. But not too bad. And I had dinner bought for me. Actually I think Bobby was more pleased to have company than I was, he had been travelling for a lot longer than I had. It turned out that he was also the guest at the previous motel who had complained about the banging door, so decided not to stay the next night.

Melbourne

Seems so long ago, but it’s only a week. The plane journey was OK, the film was OK (Death Defying Acts). Glad I hadn’t been to see it at the pictures after all. We arrived slightly early – so half eleven. Too late to think about doing anything other than jumping in a cab. So $50 later! Don’t do that again.

The hotel was fairly ropey. Turned out to be a Comfort Inn, which I’d usually steer clear of, but of course it didn’t say that on the website. At least not prominently enough for me to notice. The room was clean enough and to be honest, I didn’t care for long by the time I got in.

Sunday I woke early as I'd had the extra hour in bed afforded by the clocks changing, and as I was close to the market, made that my first stop. The market is huge and at the weekend is mostly tat / souvenirs. Round the back were some food stalls and a small area with old fashioned stall-type shops selling mostly Deli. There were even a couple of stalls from local wineries, but I didn’t fancy tasting at 9 in the morning. And I’m sure coffee and chewing gum don’t do much for the palette.

After the market, I made it towards town. I was staying right on the north-west corner of the CBD, so it was a (relatively) long walk to anywhere useful. Plus I found it took quite a bit longer to get the hang of Melbourne than it had for Sydney. Maybe it was the fact I had taken a taxi, not the train in to the hotel and I was a bit short of a decent map for a while until I could find a tourist info. I found the main shopping centre which is built around an old shot tower. Oakleys are much cheaper over here – finally replaced my shades as they are getting slightly scratched. Not much else of interest here that I can’t find in Adelaide (one of the objectives in Melbourne was to actually do some shopping - I’m told that’s what Melbourne is there for).

So to find something touristy. I settled for the Old Gaol, or what’s left of it. One wing, the men’s, is a museum, and it’s been in the news recently as Ned Kelly’s bones were found there (where they were left) in March. There’s an exercise yard left and the gallows are still inside, right at the end of one of the floors of cells where everyone can see. There are also quite a few histories of the inmates so it takes a little while to go round.

Time for food after that, so I found Chinatown which is just down the hill. Eventually stopped at a Korean Restaurant where I had chilli noodles (which were slightly reminiscent of Heinz spaghetti hoops with chilli in) and cabbage. It was OK.



Aiming to spend the day looking at the north of the CBD, I went over to one of the parks where a small cottage stands that was transported across from East Yorkshire in the hope that Captain Cook’s parents once lived there. Surrounded by a not very authentic herb garden and with the usual hopelessly inaccurate commentary (talking about the Black Death when the cottage was built in the late 17th century, for example). A fair bit of the park was roped off for a couple of weddings, which were being held on the grass in full earshot of everyone sitting around. That seems odd to me. More was roped off where trees were down after the winds that Melbourne had had the week before. (Adelaide actually had higher winds but came off much more lightly).

Walking back along the road towards the hotel, I went past the Great Exhibition Centre (built in the 19th C) where the last day of the International Flower and Garden Show was being held. I mainly went in looking for seeds, of which there was a distinct lack (wrong time of year – it was all bulbs). But there were the show gardens (more ideas), a sculpture comp and the flower show was actually in the Exhibition Centre so I got to have a neb. There wasn’t time to go into the museum after that, it’s a v modern glass building that doesn’t sit well with what’s next to it, but that seems common round here.

From there it wasn’t too far back to the hotel (although slower, given that my shoes have stretched and were really hurting my feet – so I took them off) where I had a shower before going out again. Back into town, this time I stopped at the Rialto Building which when built was the highest building in Melbourne and has a 360º observation floor. Even better, firstly I managed this time to miss the corporate video, and secondly, the ticket is good for re-entry once within the same day.

I went down to look at Flinders St Station (which is the one you always see in the photos) and Federation Square which is opposite. Down by the Riverside were a couple of venues for the Comedy Festival (not a patch on the Garden of Unearthly Delights), but I did manage to pick up a programme for the festival. Nearby was a pub which had a random selection of 4 British Comics on. So time for a pint (only one at over $8) and then to the show which went on for about an hour and a half. Surprisingly I was the only Brit in the audience (of 14). So by the 4th time of owning up to it, it was getting to be old news. Apologies to the last 2 acts. Worth going, though.

There was just time afterwards, on the way back, to go up the Rialto Tower again and have a look at Melbourne in the dark before grabbing some food on the way home.

Next morning I got out early again. (Doing well, here). Firsty stop I thought I’d better check the car hire, which I did on the internet, was OK. Finding the Hertz Office. Found the road OK, but the numbers are completely random. As they seem to be on several roads round here (including the hotel – the taxi driver didn’t believe me when I pointed out the hotel as it was nowhere near where it should have been by address). After sorting out the car, I went for breakfast and then to look for a tram to somewhere near Chapel St. Got the right stop first time with a lucky guess.

The best shopping, so I’d been told, was on Chapel St. Nothing like Peterborough. It runs for about 3-4km, with a few boutiquey shops at one point, and is very likely Shirley High St (where we shopped as students) at the top end. There was a great Bric a Brac shop which absorbed a few minutes with a fantastic range of clutter. And a specialist herb and spice shop. The buildings were quite incongruously grand for a suburban street, many in various states f disrepair. So a building with very Rococo curls and peeling green paint houses JB Hi-fi, for example.

I stopped for lunch, eventually, at a café and had a very good lamb salad before wondering down to Como to get the tram back. (Not a lake or a mountain in site). There was a leaf green Holden cruising up and down with a loudhailer pulling cars over. I’m still not sure if he was genuinely an unmrked police car, or just a clown having a laugh.

I got the tram back to the Domain to walk back through the Botanic Gardens. Again a lucky / semi-educated guess as to where they were as they were marked just off the edge of all the maps of the cente of town. They were quite small, and actually not very impressive. Although it’s difficult given that it’s Autumn and the lack of water there’s been. The herbs were particularly dowdy and there was even a dead possum in the middle of one of the beds. The glass houses were, well, warm and humid with lots of plants in pots in. The only problem was only abot 3 were labelled so you walked through thinking that’s a green plant and, er, that’s it. Anyway, back round the lake and through the park (past a permanent open air music bowl that’s quite impressive) up to the river Yarra where I stopped for a drink. There’s another arcade with interesting shops on the south bank, then I distracted myself (from the very strong desire to get a tram straight back to the hotel) by walking back through the arcades and lanes. Darkness falls early in a city with buildings of that height.

By the time I got back to the hotel, it was sevenish. There was hardly anything on that I wanted to see (actually hardly anything on) at the festival, and they started at 7, anyway. So I just wondered into town to find food. Unfortunately I also needed to find the internet and the first place I found was back by the river. So there probably wasn’t actually a lot of point in eating if I had to walk an hour there and back to find it.

On the way back, past Flagstaff Park, there were possums in all of the tree. An incredible number. Just like rats (except you rarely see rats). It’s amazing, really, how many wild animals you do see here.

Catching up... at least nearly

I need to bring myself up-to-date with the days before the epic road trip. I was pretty tired after the trip and working so I had little planned for the weekend, at least initially. I seem to have copped for a lot of Monday evenings, so sadly salsa has pretty much fallen by the wayside at the moment.

Saturday we went up to the Black Hills park, which is the next bit of the hills up from Morialta. We chose the Ambers Gully route, for no reason other than that it was slightly shorter and Ina had to do a night shift. But it was the steepest. The exact words are “take it slowly because you will need all your energy for the very tough haul up the main ridge”. So when the path started going down, we realised it was just too easy and there was definitely something wrong. Confirmed by reaching the start of the final loop back to the car park. So we retraced our steps and found the path, the one we’d looked at and said “no way”. Actually it turned out to not be as bad as the previous walk’s climb and we got to the top where there was a stunning view back to Adelaide one way (and a huge quarry the other way). There were kangaroos and a kookaburra sitting in a tree over the path.

Half way down, as we went past the rocks that looked like a petrified waterfall, my phone rang. Dinner now booked for Sunday night.

So on Sunday lunchtime, a few of us met up for Yum Cha in town, and then I went into town. It’s autumn – I need some decent boots. I found some in a small shop right on the edge of town that I always forget is there, and some very nice shoes too. I had to walk the bike back as I now had a carrier bag with a large box in. At least I walked so far, but gave in and cycled when it started raining.


Time for a shower and then round to see Conrad and Chris. It’s months since I last had a Sunday Roast. Plus quite a lot of very good wine and I ended up leaving the car lying around Adelaide again. A really good evening.

Next morning I had to go and get the car. It took about 50 min to walk round, and I had a coffee before going home. The AC engineer arrived – no gas in the system, apparently.

Wednesday night I went to the Adelaide Entertainment Centre where Queens of the Stone Age / Smashing Pumpkins were playing. Because I was late booking, I ended up sitting upstairs. Haven’t sat for a gig since Crowded House which was when? A very long time ago. It’s not right. I arrived slightly late (too big a gig – the first band started at the time on the ticket. that's also not right) and ended up trying to find the seat in the dark, having to count the seats while climbing over people. No leg room at all.

Anyway. QOTSA were good (I got them more than when I last saw them), and Smashing Pumpkins were worth seeing. But who needs a lighter. All you could see from the floor were the myriad blue lights of cameras and phones swaying. And twinkling like a starry sky.

On Thursday night, almost straight after work I flew to Perth for a toxicology course. Matt, the other SR was also on the same plane, although we weren’t sat together and I actually spent most of the flight dozing.


On arriving at Perth, we thought there must be something going on in town as there was a queue of about 200 people waiting for cabs. It snaked all the way round the barriers then escaped down the front of the terminal. So instead of that, we thought “why not get the shuttle bus”. And we could claim the cost back. So Matt booked two seats and we waited around. Eventually the bus arrived (the word “jalopy” sprung to mind) and we boarded. Strangely it wasn’t full and we were joking about how this driver should give up if he couldn’t fill the bus.

One hour later we were still waiting. We had moved up the terminal to the Virgin Blue exit (where we’d first started) and a few more had got on. The radio kept crackling with messages like “Where are you?” and “Have you left yet?” Eventually we did leave and ground our way into town. An American couple with enough luggage to be emigrating had got on and he tried to find their hotel first. The Dutch couple at the front were complaining loudly. You just had to laugh. If you didn’t you’d cry.

After driving past my hotel twice (it was on the main business street), I got dropped off. There were profuse apologies from the driver saying that he couldn’t concentrate with the “Germans” bending his ear, and that he’d forgotten. I got to the room 2 hours after landing. I’ve never used the minibar before, but I needed a beer (and Pringles or room service were the only options for food).

Next day I had to get up at 645, however because of the time difference it was actually 915, so not nearly as unrealistic as it sounded. Of course I had got to the hotel at the equivalent of half one that morning. I met up with Sam (our tox fellow who I share an office with and who was sitting in on the course) and Matt. Apparently he got to his room, which was less than 10 min walk from my hotel, half an hour after I did. It seems that it was the driver’s first trip – and it also seems that that is typical Perth service. And we forgot to get the receipts.

The course was useful. Very intensive, and it made me realise how lazy the rest of us have got with tox – just look it up. So it was excellent. It was set in the University Club – v. modern, certainly not like anything in Soton. Most of those attending were Regs from Vharles Gairdner (the very local hospital) and we were the only three from out of WA. In the evening we had drinks – paid for by the drug rep, and there was lots of drink. Then dinner, an “Italian” – roast duck which was v nice, but with a disappointingly small amount of veg. But lots of wine. We got a taxi back at 11.

Next day it was raining – which I’m told never happens in Perth. I’d forgotten what to do with this stuff that comes out of the sky. The course finished about half twelve and it was still raining. So we waited for a taxi to come by, and I waited for someone to answer the phone. Eventually one of the other guys from the course came by. He’s a rural GP who’s a typical Aussie, but an interesting bloke who has dived at shipwreck sites and breeds animals.

So Matt and I got a lift into town and the rain stopped and sun came out as we were eating in a very dodgy food court. Lots of Asian stalls, but the most popular one was that selling Steak and Chips. He went off to the library and I went shopping for a birthday card for my brother (nearly forgot). I had a couple of hours to look around. Much redevelopment is being done, and the shopping centre is like any other. However, there are a couple of interesting arcades and the Terrace, where my hotel was is an incongruous mixture of skyscrapers surrounding and overshadowing a couple of small, old buildings. Then there was “London St” which was a very fussy mock tudor alley, actually built in 1936. The modern conference centre is right on the river, and I wandered in there for a look (one advantage of carrying a conference bag with papers in, no-one challenged me).
Then it was time to get back to the hotel to give myself enough time to find a taxi. And off to the Airport for Melbourne