From Cows & Ploughs to Views & Queues
As the cock crowed this morning somewhere off in the distance, our well-oiled packing machine shifted into overdrive. Practice has made (almost) perfect and we are getting better at not taking everything we own out of our bags, distributing it to every far-flung corner of the house, when we are only staying for a night. I’m the vigilant check-under-the-bed first officer, doing a sweep of the premises for stray socks, plugged-in chargers or other miscellaneous lost property before we leave each place. It’s actually a miracle we haven’t left anything behind yet…touch wood.
Warnambool’s Kiosk on the beach was a great spot to stop for some takeaway brekky this morning and I think the coffee may have even been Toby-approved. For some reason, I don’t like drinking takeaway coffee through the plastic lid, preferring to completely remove the lid before sipping - quite problematic when driving at 100km an hour on a bumpy road. Predictably I wore most of it down my front and garnered some confused looks from the other women in the bathroom when I walked in and started squirting soap all over myself.
The driving was left in Sam’s capable hands today and we were headed back to Melbourne. We were expecting to be zooming through mostly rural landscape on our trip to the city - the route meticulously planned using our big paper map. The severe wind warnings forecast again were really nothing more than a stiff breeze but did mean the wind farms were whirring away. It’s great to see them in full swing. We can also report that Victoria’s cow population is booming. Paddock after grassy paddock was jam-packed with a multitude of jerseys and friesians (those cows need to put their jumpers on…they’re friesing). As we observed these bovines chilling in multiple, various grassy fields I started to form a theory: the cows in any given paddock are either ALL standing or ALL sitting. I decided to float my theory to the rest of the family. “Look!” I said, as we passed a group of sitters - “all sitting down!” Unfortunately, a couple of paddocks in, my theory was blown out of the water when Maisy noted some rebel cows not following suit. One day someone will do a PhD on it.
Besides a plethora of cows, paddocks dotted with hay bales and a big tractor dealership there wasn’t too much to see on our journey to the big smoke. Sam was amused to see a couple of tractors being driven along the highway and the huge rolling irrigators we saw in action would be seriously good sprinklers to run under in your swimmers on a hot day.
As we pulled into pretty Geelong, we had the music turned up nice and loud to drown out the rumbling of our tummies. There hadn’t been too many places to stop on today’s drive. Geelong is part of the Surf Coast Shire so we’d almost come full circle, back near places like Torquay and Anglesea (which Sam always pronounces as Anglais-ee-a - like Iglesias, as in Julio). We all really liked Geelong. It had a nice relaxed feel - its cute little semi-detached federation houses reminding us of Balmain and the leafy street of trendy modern shops was a bit like Mosman. Molly had been researching somewhere nice to eat in Geelong and had found a place but by the time we found a parking spot, it was too far to walk to, so we settled for the place we’d parked in front of - Meet Me At Mary’s. It looked just like a cafe from the front, set amongst paint shops, plumbing supplies and hardware stores, so we were so surprised to walk in and find and uber-cool wine bar with potted fig trees, exposed bricks and their own branded wine glasses. It was very cool. Feeling a little underdressed in shorts and thongs, we were seated at the back, near the trendiest toilets in town (with Aesop soap and hand cream, which we all sampled) The extremely attentive waitress brought us the extensive three page drink menu and looked wounded when we ordered a round of ‘tap water please’. The Instagram-worthy food was outstanding (though we forgot to take photos), especially the home-baked sour dough that came to the table still hot from the oven. Even the butter was cultured.
Our accommodation in Melbourne this time is right in the heart of the city - an Airbnb apartment above one of the bustling laneways. After our experience having to wrangle parking for both the car and the trailer last time we were here, we entered the city with trepidation about where we’d accommodate our oversized vehicle. A quick phone call to our landlady allayed our fears as she informed us there would be a spot waiting for us in the basement. We may need to find somewhere close by for the car but the trailer would be safely stowed in the bowels of the building. Given strict instructions for how to navigate the labyrinth of skinny laneways and one-way streets in order to find our target basement, we were told to call “Jack” when we were approaching.
Sam did an incredible job of locating the driveway - those laneways are skinny - and sure enough, Jack was there to greet us when we pulled up. Not oozing with warmth, Jack was a man on a mission. A quick relocation of some bins we were about to clean up, and we were in business. First, the trailer had to be detached and then the car driven into the car elevator (yes, you read that right). It was like something out of the Thunderbirds. Ross and I stood guard with the trailer while Sam and the girls descended in the lift with the car and the very serious Jack, who had incidentally found us an extra spot so we could park both car and trailer together.
Next, it was time to load the trailer into the lift. Ross was backing it up to get a good angle and asked me if there was anything behind him. I’d surveyed the empty street and told him the coast was clear but as he was backing it up it started to run away from him down the short slope behind. Oops. Nothing behind him except…oh yes, that hill. He managed to gain control again and we got the trailer into position ready for its first trip in a lift. Jack and Ross rolled it up to the door only to find it didn’t clear the top of the doorway. Bum. It was so close but… no cigar. Jack put on his thinking cap and announced that we could simply roll the trailer around the corner of the laneway, next to the garage door, and leave it there. Now call me paranoid but I was a little worried about leaving our trailer, which was - even devoid of our bags -a veritable sports equipment shop on wheels, in a dark, inner city alleyway overnight. Every person I saw lurking in the laneway looked suspicious. Maisy, with her bright-eyed optimism, assured us it will be fine. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see…
As most will know, Melbourne is renowned for its shopping and with a few Christmas presents still left to cross off on our lists, we joined the seething throng of shoppers out doing the same thing. Myer had a queue going half way down the street, just to get in. Christmas hysteria has hit. Though we were here only last week, the city seems much more Christmassy now and with the shops opening until 9pm, people were flocking to fill their Christmas stockings. Even the buskers were rocking. It was mid-city mayhem. By complete accident we stumbled upon the Gingerbread Village - all of Melbourne’s iconic buildings and landmarks expertly crafted out of gingerbread, with lashings of royal icing and marzipan to fill in the detalils. Little gingerbread villagers strolling around gingerbread Federation Square, gingerbread Flinders Street Station, placing bets at gingerbread Flemington, riding rollercoasters at gingerbread Luna Park. You could smell the sweet gingerbread as soon as you walked in, even with a mask on. It was awesome.
Our esky was full of tasty bits and pieces we have accumulated along the way - Warnambool Tasty, Apollo Bay Brie, quince paste from Tilba Tilba… We enjoyed a little pre-dinner tasting plate this afternoon, including Savoy crackers, the Victorian version of Jatz. In identical packaging, the name change has us perplexed. Apparently the ingredients differ slightly, with Savoys containing maple syrup. Maisy says she can discern the difference. We will conduct a blindfolded Jatz-Savoy taste test when we get home and see if anyone has astute enough tastebuds to taste the difference. Stay tuned.
We dined tonight at Stalactites - one of the restaurants Sam had suggested we try while we are in Melbourne. Owned by the same Greek family since 1978, it prides itself in serving authentic Greek cuisine under a roof dangling with carefully crafted stalactites. It seems Melbournians love to queue, and when faced with a line spanning half a block just to get into the restaurant, my Dad’s favourite line came to mind. “It’s a good thing not too many people know about this place”.
Befriending some cute kids in front of us made the time in the queue pass quickly and before we knew it we were being ushered in and shown to our table by the Stalactite family patriarch and were chowing down on sumptuous souvlaki and perfect pita; the portion sizes fit for a Sumo! Sam had arranged to meet one of his work colleagues to hang out after dinner so he left us and we made our way back to our great apartment with awesome views of Flinders Street Station lit up like a beacon, right out the window.
We are thankful that Toby reported his safe arrival into Brisbane. He said he got a bit of sleep on the bus too - hopefully that wasn’t while he was driving.
