New Year road trip: our last day

We were met with gloom and drizzle when we emerged from our motel the next morning, although it wasn't cold. Despite the expected limited visibility, we headed back to Powers Lookout, which I had managed to locate on a map in a tourist brochure on the Prosecco Road I picked up in nearby Milawa. (Side-note: this part of Victoria is called King Valley and it's notable for its food and wine offerings. And I like prosecco.) (Further side-note: I just spotted Powers Lookout on the map I had with me the whole trip. Map-reading fail.)

We couldn't see a thing when we got to the lookout. It was more a case of no visibility rather than limited visibility.

 Nice um...tree

 Anyone for a picnic?

Oh well. The King Valley isn't that far from Melbourne and there's plenty of other things to see/eat/drink up there, so we can come back again in better weather.  Not that the weather bothered me much. Yes, it would have been nice to see the reportedly amazing views from the lookout (a friend had recommended we take a small detour to see the view), but the low hanging cloud/fog was quite picturesque in itself and added a dramatic atmosphere to our photos that's often missing when it's a sunny day with blue sky. And besides that, the rain made the bush smell AH-MAY-ZING. All fresh and eucalyptusy. I love it. 

The rain was widespread in Victoria that Saturday, so the clouds stuck with us most of the day. Our next stop on the way home was Mansfield, which was conveniently located at the end of the road we travelled on to get to Powers Lookout. Road trip serendipity. Serentripity. 

We stopped for a quick look around Mansfield - the bakery, the lolly shop, the gun shop, the horse shop (no, it doesn't sell horses, just horsey stuff, including horse shoes that are like human shoes that you actually slip your horse's hoof into). Although I grew up on a farm, the gun shop and horse shop felt like being in a different country. My dad had a gun, but I don't remember seeing gun shops in town. And I was scared of horses from when I was a small child. (I'm still not a fan.) 

But Mansfield is in the high country, a long way from where I grew up, and guns and horses are clearly an integral part of the culture there. We even saw people - young people! - walking down the main street wearing cowboy hats. Nobody wore cowboy hats in the Western District where I grew up. Yes, we giggled at them. 

Next up, we hit the road to Alexandra, which felt like a verrrrry long drive on more winding roads through the mountains, skirting Eildon National Park and past Lake Eildon.  

More photos of rural serenity...and cows. 

These cows retreated to a safe distance before stopping and turning around to watch us intently as we took photos. We saw a lot of cows on our trip and few sheep. Clearly east of Melbourne is Cow Country and west is Sheep Country. Maybe that explains the lack of cowboy hats where I grew up...
  

 Lake Eildon (an artificial lake, hence the drowned trees)

Lake Eildon again

 This might be the Goulburn River? 

Or maybe is isn't big enough? I dunno

We stopped at Snobs Creek to visit the falls, another spontaneous decision as we'd never heard of this waterfall before, despite its relative proximity to Melbourne. The actual creek that Snobs Creek takes its name from is a pretty insignificant watercourse, so we were surprised when we got to the falls and water was fairly thundering over the rocks. 

 The top of the main drop (hard to get more than this in shot)

 Above the falls

The cascades

I've said after previous holidays that it's not a proper holiday without me falling into something (e.g. a creek in Tassie) or stepping in something gross (stagnant mad that looked like beach sand on the Coorong). This time I slipped and fell on the rocks, hurting both wrists and my left shoulder, and getting a wet patch on my bum. Kind of serves me right because we had slipped through a gap in the viewing platform and walked out onto the rocks to take photos. Miraculously, the family that was at the viewing platform mere minutes before wasn't there when I looked up, and Luke had his back turned. That's called winning at falling. 

Our next and final stop was Alexandra, where we stopped for a late lunch before thee final stretch of highway that took us home. It was sort of nice to be home - I really enjoyed sleeping on my own pillow, which I had forgotten to take with me - but honestly, I wish we could have just kept on driving. One day, I'd like to take several months off work, and just drive keep on driving.    

A note about my photos: I've realised I need to recalibrate the colours on my laptop, which is why my photos probably look over-saturated on your device. They look fine on mine!  I'll fix that when I work out how to do it...

New Year road trip day 4: Eden and Cooma

Luke was up earlier than I the next morning and took his camera for a stroll around Mallacoota. He returned with a seal story - this one about a big, grumpy seal sunning itself on a jetty which barked at him when he got too close.

We went past again after breakfast and it was still there, snoozing in the sun. The jetty was fairly narrow and the seal was completely blocking the entrance to it. 

A guy berthed his boat at the jetty while Luke was there in the early morning and as he started running up the jetty Luke alerted him to the presence of the seal. He responded with something like, "Oh, not that bloody seal again", so obviously it's a regular hang out for the seal. It's near a fish cleaning station, so perhaps it was waiting for fish snacks.

Speaking of fish, every time I think of this seal or see photos of it, I will remember the bloody awful stench that filled the air near the jetty. I don't have a particularly delicate stomach when it comes to bad smells, but this nearly made me lose my breakfast. It was putrid. Upon investigation, I discovered a fisherman had thrown a small shark's head down onto the water's edge and I don't think it was recently. Not sure why the seal or some other scavenger hadn't eaten it while it was fresh.  

  Zzzzzz

My original itinerary had us travelling from Mallacoota inland to Jindabyne, but we ended up continuing up the coast to Eden in New South Wales. 

 Boats in the delightfully named Snug Cove 

  The garden of Eden is really a 'mongrel landscape' 

After a quick information-gathering stop at the local tourist info centre, we backtracked to visit an old whaling station and the Green Cape Lighthouse, which meant more driving on bumpy, rutted gravel roads. (Finally getting back onto smooth bitumen after bumping along for kilometres on gravel roads is one of life's less common simple pleasures.)  

 The old house at the Davidson Whaling Station, 

which dates back to 1896

The house and other buildings are run as a small museum. On the day we visited a descendant of the Davidsons was there to hand over an old gun to go on display. Our guide pointed out his mother sitting on her mother's knee in a photo on the wall of the house.

Kiah Inlet: calm and serene today, but once where the Davidson

 family brought ashore the whales they hunted for oil

There was an old photo in the house of a man embedded in the blubber of a dead whale. Whale blubber was thought to be good for rheumatism, but anyone undergoing the treatment had to have someone keep an eye on them so they didn't pass out from the heat and stench, and suffocate in the blubber. Thank god for modern medicine.  

Another surprising thing we learned: the whalers took advantage of killer whales' status as the only predator of southern right whale to help them catch their quarry. Packs of killer whales drove the southern rights into shore where they attacked them, making it easier for the whaleboats to capture them. The whalers let the orcas feast on the whales' lips and tongues, and they took the rest of the carcass. Bizarre.  

The Davidson whaling station was set up in 1866 and closed its operations in 1929. It was the longest continuously operating whaling station in Australia.   

Yacht parking to the right please

  

 Next we headed to the Green Cape lighthouse. 

 Disaster Bay on the way 

 Luke's car after another, mercifully short, stretch of dirt road

 Said lighthouse

We had lunch back in Eden, then continued up the coast almost to Merimbula, but then we turned off the highway and took a road less travelled on the way to Cooma (which sadly meant we bypassed the amusingly named town of Numbugga). We were back in gorgeous lush, hilly farmland which had us 'oohing' and 'aahing'.  

 Impending storm

Curious calves

When we stopped in the driveway of a farm to take photos the calves in the paddock on the opposite side of the road mooed at us until I paid them some attention. Once I took their photo, they lost interest. 

A guy came out of the farm on a quadbike and stopped to ask if we were OK. I guess being off the highway they don't see a lot of tourists. When we told him our destination and confessed we weren't certain when were on the right road, he said we were and told us about a lookout up in the nearby mountains, which was on our way.  Unfortunately by the time we reached it (the Bemboka Escarpment), it had started to rain and we couldn't see much. As we got further along the high, winding mountain pass the clouds in the photo above let loose a proper downpour. 

On the other side of the mountains, we arrived at Cooma, which is only just over 100km south of Canberra and notable for its history as headquarters during construction of the Snowy Hydro Scheme (a hydroelectricity and irrigation complex) between 1949 and 1974. 

After finding a room (and breaking an arm off my glasses which I had to mend with a Band-aid), we set off on a walk around town. 

A highland goaty-oaty-oat?

We saw quite a few goats on our travels, but our favourite was a black goat with huge horns we saw near Agnes Falls and dubbed Devil Goat.

Dinner was at the art deco era Alpine Hotel (scotch fillet again), then it was bedtime.  

New Year road trip day 2: Lakes Entrance

I woke the next day with very sore glutes, calves and quads from the previous day's exertions (as well as sunburn on the tops of my feet because I forgot to suncreen them), but I dragged myself out of bed early, ready to hit the road for Lakes Entrance. The morning was pleasantly cool and dewy. 

For non-Victorians, Lakes Entrance is in Gippsland - the southern section of Victoria that's east of Melbourne - and it's such a beautiful part of the state. It has amazing beaches, lush farmland with rolling hills and not-too-distant mountains. Despite being more than a month into summer, parts of it were still green. 

We turned off at the small town of Toora to visit Agnes Falls and there was gorgeousness everywhere we looked. And cows. It was just so verdant. 

I'd never heard of Agnes Falls until planning this trip, even though they are the highest single drop falls in Victoria - but they were a very impressive sight. The Agnes River was calm and glassy before tumbling into a deep, rocky gorge. 

Look at that mirror-like river 

More of the falls (not the full drop)

The wall of the gorge opposite the falls was a series of tall, rugged, rocky columns, but there were too many trees in the way to get a photo of it (damned nature!). No, wait. I love nature. The native bush smelled amazing and we saw (and heard) two black cockatoos screeching in a tree near the falls. 

 Agnes River and fallen tree

A nearby windfarm

 More verdure...and a river runs through it

 More hay rolls and green hills

  

 Green hill with curious cow

Next we headed for Woodside Beach, near the start of the iconic Ninety Mile Beach. At about 150km (94 miles), Ninety Mile Beach is one of the longest uninterrupted stretches of beach in the world. I was thrilled to read that sharks - including Great Whites - have been known to breed in the shallows along the beach, but we weren't there during mating season (note to self: revisit during shark sexy time). 

 

The Surf Life Saving Club patrol

We missed a turn and ended up in Lochsport, which sits on a skinny finger of land between two lakes, right on the coast (that triangle of blue is the ocean).   

It's home to a cousin of the Loch Ness Monster, and her baby.

Our next stop was another lakeside town called Metung. Allow me to share a snippet of the conversation as we drove along: 

Me (looking at map): Where's Metung?

Luke: In your mouth! (Laughs hysterically)

Hawhaw. It's pronounced MEE-tung, but after that we called it Me-TUNG. 

I'd heard many people sing the praises of Metung, and it was certainly pretty - a pleasant mix of water views, and a village spread across low hills covered with native bush - but I found it a little too...Portsea for my liking (i.e. a place where people with plenty of money like to take their summer holidays with their big, shiny boats).

 Rich person(s) holidaying with yacht

Lakes Entrance, named for the artificial channel (highlighted below) connecting Bass Strait to the Gippsland Lakes, was our final destination for the day.   

We booked into a motel room for the night and then took ourselves for a walk. 

 Footbridge over lake to the beach

 Fishing boats

Some other boats

A friend had highly recommended a fish and chip shop in Lakes Entrance  - the best fish n chips EVER - so we headed there for dinner. Going on the number of patrons in the shop and the long wait for our order, it was indeed a purveyor of fine fish n chips. 

I don't eat fish, but I can say that the chips were excellent: crispy outside and fluffy inside.  I also sweet potato cakes for the first time and they were yummy (also enormous).

Then it was back to our motel and to bed. I think we were in bed before 10.00 pm (maybe even 9.30 pm) every night of our trip and I sighed with contented exhaustion every night as I laid down my weary body. Aaaaaaaah.  

On that note, I'm going to take my weary body to bed. Day three to follow...

I'm going to Sydney!

I'm off to Sydney to see the Inky Fool! Just booked my ticket and flights before. I contemplated staying Saturday night as well to see Cheryl Strayed (author of the memoir Wild and writer of the Dear Sugar advice column on The Rumpus), but the return fare for the Sunday was significantly more expensive, and I'm supposed to be saving money for a trip to the UK with Luke in August. 

I'm still pretty excited about it though. I've never flown anywhere just for a day before. I must remember to take my copy of The Etymologicon with me in case I have an opportunity for Mark to sign it.  (Incidentally, Mark doesn't look the way I imagined. I expected an older, fusty man, perhaps with a bit of ear hair, but no.)

Speaking of Cheryl Strayed, when I read Wild on my Christmas holidays, I made a note of a quote from it that resonated with me and reminded me of the George Bernard Shaw quote in the sidebar of Gleeful, but I forgot to mention it. Now seems like the time to do bring it up.
  
Wild recounts the story of Cheryl's physically and emotionally gruelling solo trek of more than 1,000 miles up the west coast of the US four years after the death of her mother and breakdown of her marriage. She was a novice hiker lugging a pack almost as heavy as herself on long distances nearly every day for months, in ill-fitting boots that caused painful blisters and the loss of several toenails. Add to that the risks of encountering big cats and strange men and dealing with extreme weather (including snow)... Anyway, she wrote:

"In the moments among my various agonies, I noticed the beauty that surrounded me, the wonder of things both small and large: the colour of a desert flower that brushed against me on the trail or the grand sweep of the sky as the sun faded over the mountains."

Life wasn't meant to be easy...but it can also be delightful.


Fancy some cow facts?

Someone I follow on Twitter tweeted a link to a story on the Top 10 facts about cows. My favourites: 

• In Moscow circuses cows have been trained to play football. Circus cows! Playing football! 
• A group of 10 or more cows is called a 'flink'. 
• In 1983, a Czechoslovakian was refused Swedish citizenship because of his dislike of cowbells, which showed he hadn't assimilated successfully despite living there for 14 years. The Swedish citizenship forms must be quite a read.