First fiasco was not getting to Hanging Rock yesterday (which, as I shall soon relate, actually turned into a separate fiasco of its own). The computer desk I bought in Ikea on Friday was just a little too big to fit into the car, no matter how many ways I tried to angle it. So I had to get it delivered. I wasn't too fussed about that, as I'd managed to get into the 8-12 time slot. At 2.20, they turned up unapologetically and dropped my stuff off. I could probably have gone out at that point, but I was feeling tired from having been woken up by the leafblowing man across the street at 7.45.
So, today began more successfully, and after a couple of wrong turns in Melbourne itself and parking up to look at the Melways, first real stop was Hanging Rock. This appears to be turning into a new Top Gun for me (was 2003 before I finally saw the film, despite having tried several times in the 15 or so intervening years since its release). I hope it's not going to be as much of a let-down as that was! Today was the day The Age, the Melbourne newspaper, had decided to hold its annual Picnic at Hanging Rock celebratory picnic, it being almost (but not quite!) the nearest Sunday to the date on which the schoolgirls purportedly disappeared. That meant about somewhere between 5 and 10 thousand other people converging on the same spot, and them charging $18 just to get in (normally $5) and the cafe was closed so I wouldn't even have been able to eat anything. Back to the car...
So then to the Organ Pipes National Park. An unfortunate position barely half a kilometre from the freeway, and less than a kilometre from a drag-racing track, means the park isn't quite the idyll of peace and tranquillity you get from the average UK national park, but it's still very pretty - kind of a dry-land Giant's Causeway, with the same underlying geological cause. Here's my take on the pipes themselves :
And finally, Portsea. Unfortunately, I didn't get to Point Nepean, overlooking the Rip, as it was closed by the time I arrived. However, there are two strongly contrasting beaches to enjoy - Back Beach and Bay Beach. The Bay Beach is utterly calm, barely a ripple, and the 100m jetty out into Port Phillip Bay allows you to see how clear the water is - you can see right to the bottom. Back Beach is a little different. Facing out onto Bass Strait, it's filled with powerful currents, big rollers and spray everywhere (mmmm, salty beard) - not a place to go swimming (and it was only a mile or so away that Harold Holt, whom I mentioned the other day, lost his life). Pretty exclusive place (as the Wikipedia shows, average house prices are around £400K, and it's the most affluent postcode in the whole country). There were 5 houses just along the main street with tennis courts in the gardens, and one house that's one of the most fascinating I've ever seen - it was laid out rising up a gently-sloping hill, and all glass, with a staircase running inside along the whole length of the house - being glass, you could see the whole staircase. Looked like a fairly novelly-designed house.
Aussieisms I've picked up today. Provincial doesn't have any negative connotations here - it's a commonly-used food adjective, and means something similar to the way we'd use "country," like "country vegetable soup". Then there's the marketing-spin-inspired sale justification "carbon-damaged" - i.e. fire damage. Also saw a sign warning me that tiredness can kill, so I should stop and have a 15-minute powernap.
So now I'm going to finish off my road trip by having 30 or so consecutive powernaps.
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