As I noted when I was in Silverton (Trip 4, Aug. 11, part 2), I purchased an Aussie dollar that had been converted to a pendant. Once I was back home, I went in search of a silver chain, so I could wear that pendant. While it is not my only piece of jewelry, that Aussie dollar is now my most common adornment, especially in warm weather. Not a great photo, but here’s what it looks like.
Woke to the sound of myriad birds. It is a gray day, but mild. After breakfast, Judy and I toured her magnificent gardens. She pointed out the plants that have been added since my last time here, as well as Geoff’s stonework—a new path, new stairs, and retaining walls, to create more space for Judy’s flowers. It’s a lot of work, but the results are spectacular. I happily photographed all this, plus the paddock, Rahmyl, flowers, trees, mushrooms, the abandoned bower of a satin bowerbird, along with the blue odds and ends the bird had collected. We fed seed to the rosellas, bread to the galahs, and chicken fat to the magpies and butcher birds (these latter birds catch the fat in mid air when it’s thrown).
Then too soon it was 11 am and time to load my gear in the car and head for the airport.
Pleasant, uneventful drive across town. Clouds were beginning to break up as we reached the airport. We parked the Land Rover and headed for the Qantas departure level. After checking in (arriving really early definitely helped—I even managed to get a window seat), Judy and Geoff and I headed for the coffee shop for a bite of lunch. We talked for the remaining hour before I headed out to the gate. It was, as always, tough to say good-bye—though I realize that this is as much because it’s the end of my holidays as it is saying “bye” to old friends. A final wave, and then I was on my way home.
The window seat is right on the wing, so even if we go over wonderful scenery, I won’t be getting any photos from this segment of my trip. Oh, well. I’ve shot 45 rolls of film on this trip, so that will have to be enough.
We’ve started our taxi away from the gate, so in another minute, it’s “farewell, Melbourne—until next time.”
In-flight entertainment included an episode of “A River Somewhere,” which I’d just learned about from Judy, so fun to see it so soon after hearing about it.
And into Sydney. Quick bus ride from the domestic terminal to international. Wandered, bought macadamia nuts, got on the plane. No one in the middle seat, which always makes for a more comfortable flight. The woman in the aisle seat was delightfully friendly, which is nice on a 14-hour flight. So double blessings. And then we were off.
The peculiarity of the International Dateline means I leaf Sydney at 5pm on 9/1, flew for 14 hours, and landed in Los Angeles at 1:40 pm on 9/1.
Back in the USA. Passed relatively quickly through immigration, agriculture inspection, and customs, then out the door and over to terminal 4. Los Angeles struck me as being both strange and familiar: all-American and international, Australia’s trees (yes, all those eucalypts in California are imports) , Hawaii’s flowers, America’s money and cars, and announcements in English, French, Chinese, and Spanish. Reeling from jet lag, so time to find coffee. And then flight to Chicago. It’s actually good to be home.
Coastal vegetation covering high dunes dropped down to the sea. Everywhere, there were melaleuca trees in bloom. So fragrant. We stopped in a beautiful spot for post-lunch coffee and homemade shortbread. (Judy is a wonderful baker, and had packed a hamper assuming that a mid-afternoon break would be welcome. She was right.)
On the road again, we retraced our steps as far as the turn-off for Phillip Island. Through San Remo, over the causeway and bridge, and onto the island. The sea was sparkling, and all views were magnificent.
We headed straight for the Nobbies, a dramatic area of cobblestone rocks jutting out into the water of Bass Strait. Here, a cliff-side boardwalk overlooks the rugged basalt coast that is home to fur seals (Australia’s largest colony) plus penguins, gulls, terns, and a variety of other sea birds. Binoculars mounted along the boardwalk gave us clear views of the seals and terns, and there were a few penguins under the boardwalk. However, most of the birdlife we saw was Australian gulls, since there is a huge “gullery” here. I got photos of gulls sitting on nests, building nests, guarding nests. I photographed empty nests, nests with eggs but no gulls, and gulls but with no eggs. I got images of gulls preening, fighting, even mating. Now if anyone needs a photo of an Australian gull, I have it.
I also took lots of photos of the wonderful coast, the green cliffs, the basalt rocks, and crashing waves. There is a blow hole/cave nearby, and we could hear it thundering even before we reached it. Wonderful place.
Back on the road, we passed again into the green countryside. It has been a wet spring here, and there is a good bit of standing water in the paddocks, which has attracted ibises (Australian white ibises: white bodies and black heads) to the fields to feast on drowned insects. This created an amusing scene of ibises and horses grazing in the same fields.
As we drove back across the green miles toward Melbourne, I was pleased by the beauty of this final day of the trip, but also somewhat stunned by the realization that by this time tomorrow I’ll be out over the Pacific Ocean, on my way back home. It seems odd to me, but Australia is so much a part of my life, so much a part of who I am, that it almost can’t register that this is on the other side of the world.
I am glad that my friends here (Nikki and Richard and Judy and Geoff) have spoken so often of what we’ll do the next time I come, because it lets me leave believing there will be a next time, even though I am fully aware that eventually there will be a last trip.
Back to Judy and Geoff’s ranch by 6pm, and I started packing. Judy called when dinner was ready—and it was a fabulous last meal: steak, tomatoes with cheese, sautéed potatoes, green beans, good red wine, golden syrup steamed pudding, coffee, cheese and crackers. Definitely felt like I was being sent off in style. Then a last evening of conversation with these wonderful friends.
Well, no one sleeps through the arrival of the cockatoos! They set up their racket about 7:30. Judy says there are even more of them in the summer. Really loud. But they were not alone.
From the kitchen window, we could see beautiful little Eastern spinebills bathing in the birdbath in the side garden. Out the front windows, we watched the crimson rosellas and a butcher bird search for food. Galahs settled in the paddock nearby. As we walked out to the Land Rover, the kookaburras started laughing, and an Eastern rosella watched us from a tree. We could see swallows gathering materials for nests and heading for Rahmyl’s new stable. Definitely a great place for anyone who loves birds.
On the road again, in the Land Rover, we headed south, toward the coast, leaving the forests and mountains behind. Clouds are gathering, but it is still a lovely day, and a good bit warmer than yesterday. Down toward the Mornington Peninsula, and then eastward. After Tooradin, there was an increase in low trees and shrubs. Drainage ditches and tidal creeks cut across the fields. Past Bunyip River and the Kooweerup Swamp. Southward again. This area is more lovely and more open than I remember from my first trip to Australia. We ented an area of stud farms, cows, and sheep amid green fields outlined by trees. A few little wineries have signs along the road. The scrub closed in, then opened again upon a view of Western Port Bay—the bay that surrounds Phillip Island, my destination on that first visit.
Low mountains were to our left for the first part of the drive south, until the mountains swung toward us and we climbed over them, which gave us splendid views of the ocean and shore. Suddenly we were amid the suburbs of Wonthaggi—and suburbs seemed odd after such a long stretch of wild or rural areas. Then just as suddenly, we were out in the open again. Road signs warning drivers to keep an eye out for koalas and wombats began to appear.
We pulled into Tarwin Lower about 11:30. Our destination here was a historic pub—about 100 years old, hauled in by bullock dray. Perfect combination of charm and antiquity. (I learned that this is actually a replacement pub, as the original burned, and the current building is the one that was brought in by dray in 1916.) Still, as is so common, a good, hearty meal was available. Pumpkin soup, roast lamb, veggies, and a Strongbow cider. Perfect Aussie meal.
It was getting windy as we headed off again, though that might be because we’re so close to the coast. We headed to the Tarwin Lower boardwalk, our real reason for being here. The setting was delightful, but did not offer quite as much birdlife as we’d hoped, though the tidal mud offered many foot prints, indicating that birds were around. Amid the footprints, crabs scuttled through the mud. We ambled up and down the boardwalk, seeing willy wagtails and hearing kookaburras and whip birds. The melaleuca trees that lined the tidal creek were in bloom, which was wonderful.
Then back on the road, heading for Venus Bay.
Another gloriously sunny day. Judy packed us a lunch, we piled into the Land Rover, and we headed out on another adventure. We wound through the Dandenong Mountains, first amid the towering mountain ash and tree ferns, and then into a rich area of flower and fruit farms.
Farther along, we saw the Centenary Trail, a former railway line now converted for use by walkers, horse riders, and bicycles—a project Judy was involved in establishing. We headed east, and before long, we saw the precipitous walls of the tail end of the Great Dividing Range. We followed the upper reaches of the Yarra River into Warburton Valley and to the town of Warburton.
First stop was at the delightful Warburton information center—part tourist aid, part museum, part art gallery. There was a lot of information about the dreadful fires that come through every few years—though the Black Friday fire in 1939 still holds the record for being the worst. From the info center, we headed for a picnic table by the river’s edge, among the pittosporum trees (divinely fragrant) and tree ferns, and there, we had lunch.
Back on the road, we climbed up into the mountains, entering the Yarra Ranges National Park. We stopped at the Mount Donna Buang Rainforest Gallery, a mountainside locatoin where stairs, walkways, and platforms have been built though the temperate rainforest here, giving us access to wonderful flora on all hands. We had a glorious time, wandering for more than an hour amid the old mountain ash and myrtle beech forest. Tree ferns filled the spaces between trees, mosses and ferns grew on most available surfaces (in fact, some tree ferns had other types of ferns growing on their trunks). We hiked down to Cement Creek, where the clear water rushed and gurgled over rocks and mossy tree roots. What a splendid place.
Reascending to where we’d left the car, we headed back down the mountain and back through Warburton. As we reached the region near Healesville, we could hear the Bell Birds chiming in the trees. (We didn’t stop at the fabulous Healesville Sancturary simply because Judy and I had spent an entire day there two visits ago.) We turned down a scenic drive, taking a side track to the Yarra Valley Dairy.
The lushly green little dairy specializes in gourmet cheeses from both cows’ and goats’ milk. Nine little handmade cheeses were offered for tasting, and we tried all nine. We bought cows’ milk fromage frais with herbs and garlic, matured goats’ milk grabetto, and mascarpone reale (a combination of mascarpone and gorgonzola), plus lavash and cider, and enjoyed “afternoon tea.”
In a little over an hour more, we were back home—which is in fact another delight. The little, green, mountainside property, surrounded by trees, is beautiful. Geoff and I walked down the paddock to pick pittosporum seeds, and as we waked, we saw magpies, galahs, sulphur-crested cockatoos, crimson rosellas, and a wattle bird, and could hear the kookaburras. Wonderful.
Then it was time to get ready for the evening. I’m taking Geoff and Judy out to eat (my usual but heartfelt way to say thank you to good friends), so we headed off to their favorite seafood restaurant for a remarkable five-course dinner. Serious wow—but then we are close to the water here. Familiar favorites included prawns, scallops, crab, and calamari in various forms and preparations, with one item that was new to me: flathead, a local, saltwater fish. Outstanding.
Both entering and leaving the restaurant, I got to see the Southern Cross above the clearing that surrounds the restaurant. As I near the end of the trip, seeing it again seems reassuring. We were home by 10:30, and we quickly parted company, as we want to make an early start tomorrow.
One added pleasure: Judy has put a bouquet of freshly-cut daphne in my room, and the floral/citrus fragrance of the lovely white flowers is a delight to the senses. Perfect end to a wonderful day.
Sunshine at last! I watched the black ducks and crimson rosellas out the window while I enjoyed toast with a bit of Judy’s homemade fig, pear, and pecan preserves. Rahmyl was enjoying the sun out in the paddock, and that is where Judy joined Geoff, to get a few chores done before we set off on the day’s adventure.
We’re in the Land Rover today, heading north on the Hume Highway. The last vestiges of fog having burned off, the day is now spectacular, warm, and sunny. As we crossed the basalt plains, Mount Macedon rose off to the right. We continued on through grazing land (primarily horses) and charming towns, past Mount Macedon and the Hanging Rock district, enjoying the scenery and the weather.
In roughly 75 miles, we reached Castlemaine. This handsome, historic town is located in what was once goldmining territory (the richest alluvial goldfield in world history, in fact). From gold-rush town, it became an important wool-milling area, then agricultural and tourism (lots to see here). It is also where Geoff spent some of his childhood. (Geoff’s family moved to Australia from the UK when he was 6 years old. Geoff’s dad, a loom tuner, headed first for the cotton mills of Queensland, then moved to the wool mills of Castlemaine, and eventually, closer to Melbourne.)
We drove around town, admiring the architecture and antiquity, but then, as it was lunch time, we stopped at a bakery and bought meat pies, heading to the city park, to dine amid the trees and ducks (black ducks and teals). I learned that the handsome but contorted trees identified as Camperdown Elms, transplanted from Scotland, were registered with the National Trust as “significant trees.” After eating, we drove around town, enjoying the old but well-maintained buildings. Then Geoff turned us toward nearby Maldon.
Maldon was the first town to be registered in its entirety as a historic site— “First Notable Town,” the sign reads. Maldon was one of the towns that grew up around the gold fields. It is surrounded by green paddocks full of sheep, forests of varied gum trees, and mullock heaps from the old mines, now largely covered in gorse. The town itself is only a few blocks long and wide, with the streets lined by buildings dating to the mid-1800s. The original blue stone curbs and gutters are all still in place. (Blue stone is a local type of granite.) A couple of draft horses stood in front of the blacksmith’s shop. So definitely an air of antiquity.
Geoff parked the car and we headed off to explore the town. The buildings are all original, but few are still employed in their original purpose. Shops, hotels, stables, and granaries have been converted into antique stores and second-hand shops interspersed with cafés, restaurants, and ice cream shops. That said, there are still a few places not focused primarily on tourists—places needed to serve the community, such as a news agent, butcher, baker, and petrol/gas station.
We browsed through the lovely collections of antiques, admired the iron lace or simple wood façades of the buildings, listened to the musicians in front of the Theatre Royal (bagpipes, guitar, tin whistle), and admired the many vintage cars in the street, which ranged from early “horseless carriages” to 1950s Jags. (Geoff, being a mechanic, especially enjoyed the cars.)
I bought two books in one of the second-hand shops, and then a bit farther down the street, I treated Judy and Geoff to ice cream. Returning to our car, Geoff headed us off to find the old Maldon train station. Here, the Victorian Goldfields Railway, a preserved branch-line of the state’s railway, is operated by volunteers of the Castlemaine and Maldon Railway Preservation Society, a group that maintains the antique trains and also takes visitors around the area in those vintage trains. We had missed the last train trip of the day, but we enjoyed wandering around the 1800s station and seeing several of the lovely old trains there.
By this time, it was getting near 5 o’clock, and shops were beginning to close, so we turned our wheels toward home. It was a long drive, but pleasant, as the sun set and the sky colored, followed by the lights coming on. As we approached Melbourne, it seemed odd to be able to see this large, sparkling city on the far side of the dark fields and tree-bordered paddocks that intervened.
Home by 7:45. Judy is preparing a light dinner. Geoff is calling customers (when one owns a business, a day with no work is unlikely). The frogs in the pond are serenading us. Pleasant, comfortable end to a lovely day.
Gray, misty morning, but that didn’t slow us down. I borrowed a sweater, as it was a bit chilly. Judy packed us a lunch, then we grabbed umbrellas and headed out the door. A bit of a hike up the hill brought us to the home of the neighboring friends who would be joining us for our day and transporting us to the game. We piled in their car and headed for the city.
As we approached the MCG, traffic started to thicken. We parked a bit more than a half-hour hike from the stadium, in order to avoid the thickest of the traffic (and higher parking fees), and joined the throngs streaming toward the MCG. “MCG” is an abbreviation of Melbourne Cricket Ground—the largest stadium in the Southern Hemisphere. I’ve read that it has been altered over the years, but at the time of our visit, it was used for cricket in the summer but for Aussie Rules Football in the winter—and we were here for football.
About ten minutes from the stadium, we started to see young men selling souvenir books about the players. I was encouraged to wait a bit, as this is where most people buy their books (and business was clearly brisk), so older boys take these plum spots and relegate the youngest boys to the less lucrative spots near the entrances. If I had doubted this at all, any doubts would have been dispelled by the eager faces that greeted us near the stadium’s big doors. The youngsters were trying so hard to sell, and were being almost entirely ignored, as everyone already had their books. They were so excited when we stopped to buy from them, and so enthusiastic in expressing their gratitude.
The B teams were playing when we arrived. The main event wouldn’t start until 2:00 pm. So Judy’s friend, Michael, took me on a brief tour of the impressive facility. Then we settled in and chatted until it was time for the game to begin. If you read my book, Waltzing Australia, you would have encountered a fairly detailed description of what Aussie Rules Football is like. If not, there are plenty of websites (even Encyclopedia Britannica covers it) and videos that can give you the details. But know that it is very fast-paced and very exciting—and fans are very enthusiastic.
Essendon was favored to win, but Melbourne was looking mighty good during the first half. But Judy’s hopes of a Melbourne victory were dashed, and Essendon pulled back into the lead—to Michael’s great joy.
About 4:30, we, along with tens of thousands of others, flooded out into the street. Stuck in traffic, I found myself sickened by car exhaust—I’ve been so little exposed to traffic in the last few weeks that my lungs were just not happy with the city air. But fortunately, we were out of the city before long, back up in the mountains.
Walking back from the friends’ house to Judy’s, we arrived home just in time to get ready for a dinner party with Robert, a friend of Judy’s that I knew from previous trips. Always fun to reconnect. Especially because people have always been, for me, such a big part of the joy of traveling.
So a different adventure than the Outback, but still a truly lovely day.
Still raining this morning, so Judy announced we would go to “Plan B.” She added that I would find out about “Plan A” in a couple of days, if the weather improved.
Plan B turned out to be a drive into Melbourne to visit the Victoria Market. Wow! I don’t know if it has expanded, or if I simply didn’t see it all before, but I was amazed. I do remember having been hugely impressed with the gorgeous fruits and vegetables, and these did not disappoint. But I was blown away by the section with meat, fish, and gourmet foods (wide selection of local olives and cheeses, plus delicacies from around the world). Of course, first trip, I didn’t have access to a kitchen, so I guess it made sense that I didn’t check out the fish and meat. Having Judy as a guide was a treat, as she is an experienced cook and knew where to find all the most interesting things.
We had lunch in the food court (Chinese), then shopped our way through the gift and clothing sections, where I found a little bottle of essential oils called Australian Bush. Not as nice, of course, as the actual Australian bush, but pleasant and evocative. But it was the food halls there were the real delight. They do seem to have everything here. If one lived nearby, I can’t imagine needing to shop anywhere else for fresh food. We picked up food for dinner, including purple potatoes, which I love, and which seem to be widely available here. Yum.
Finally headed home about 4 p.m. Still cold and wet outside, so Geoff built up a nice fire in the fireplace, and Judy made tea. Some of the many beautiful books that surrounded us were pulled off of shelves to show me flora, fauna, and scenery from this part of the country. We enjoyed the fire, tea, books, and conversation until it was time to get dinner started. After dinner, we watched a footy match (Aussie Rules Football) on TV. I was told this would be good practice for tomorrow’s outing, as Judy and I are going to a live game: Essendon vs. Melbourne.
During the evening, there was an ad on TV for something coming in September, and I thought to myself they’re certainly advertising well in advance—it’s not until fall—but then it hit me with a bit of a shock that September is next week. It may be spring here, but I’m going home to autumn. Where did the year go?
Cloudy morning. Rained all night—which was a good thing, as they needed the rain. Up early and finished packing. Always sorry to leave, but also pleased to move along. New beauty and other old friends. Of course, I always feel a little like I’m already kind of on my way home, once I leave the outback. But still more to see.
Everything around us is rejoicingly green, as we speed southward toward Adelaide. The rain has refreshed the plants and cleared the air. Though the clouds are still clinging to the hills, the sky is clearing as we continue on. The clouds are amazingly tall, and the sky somehow seems bigger than anything else I’ve seen. Perhaps it is because the land is so open to the sky, but also because the towering clouds emphasize space. A clear, blue sky is nice, but the clouds are more dramatic and draw one’s gaze upward.
Arrived at the airport in good time. Nikki and Richard came in with me, and I treated them to coffee after checking in. It was odd, but it was suddenly as if this moment became connected consecutively to the last time I bought them coffee in this same airport, four years ago. Heartfelt farewells, and then it was out the door and across the tarmac to the waiting jet.
Judy and Geoff were waiting for me at the airport in Melbourne. It is great to see them again! As soon as they had collected me, however, we were off. Geoff was eager to get out of the city as quickly as possible, and he guided their Land Rover up into the mountains. I, too, was glad to leave the city behind. Not ready quite yet to part with nature. (Though in Geoff’s case, it was largely a matter of beating rush hour.)
It was raining, but the giant trees and ferns of the Dandenong Mountains simply seem more exuberantly green when wet. Engrossed in the scenery and conversation with my friends, I hardly noticed the time it took to climb up to Sassafras, and then we were turning into Judy and Geoff’s long, steep driveway. I love this place and these people. Judy had fresh flowers in my room—has she has done on every visit. Bullitt (dog) is gone, but Rahmyl (horse) looks well, and Geoff has built a new stall for him. Rocky the Cocky (cockatoo) is still here and still chatting noisily. The gardens are splendid. The parrots, magpies, and ducks are still abundant.
We had a lovely dinner, watched some TV, and talked. It’s good to be here. I thank God for remarkable friends.
Waltzing Australia 