We arrived to our particular property in the beautiful Dandenong Hills on Boxing Day, met Rob and Rosemary who introduced us to their two hounds before heading away. Part of their briefing to us included reference to the fire risk, what siren to be alerted by, which radio station to listen to and where to go in the event of a real ‘fire event’. The shots below were taken a week or so later around Strathewen showing the dead trunks above regenerating bush caused by the fire of 9 February 2009 – see Louise’s blog for more on this.

The house was comfortable, set on ample tree-clad land and the dogs were friendly. One was a ‘rescue’ greyhound geriatric, the other a middle-aged red healer with a torn cruciate ligament that required rest. Alice, the red healer, didn’t know she required rest and was frequently dropping the ball at my feet, only to have the invitation declined, tempting though it was.

We were quite sedentary while there, indulging in a few local rides. We went to lunch at Olinda, a place we had visited many years previously. Emerald, a village about 8 kms away boasted a high quality bakery that necessitated a few visits.

The little off license in Emerald had a modest selection of craft beers but amongst them were Hargreaves Hill beers. The ESB caught my eye then tipped from a glass and sent the palate into raptures. ESB stands for Extra Special Bitter, an English classic whose acronym is often associated with Fullers brewery in Chiswick, London. The benchmark to beat if you like. Which I do and Hargreaves Hill ESB nearly did. In previous blogs I have lamented the lack of decent beer in Australia, with 95% of what Aussies call beer being closer to industrial effluent, cooled, gaseated and pump-primed by marketing gurus to make the stuff sell. Of all the micro-brewery beers I have tried on this lengthy lap, Hargreaves Hill ESB takes line honours.

Not wishing to motorcycle anywhere on New Year’s Eve, we enquired what events were on offer in Cockatoo. The answer was short and sweet. The Cockatoo RSL was hosting the event so that was our pick. However, the prospect of drinking awful beer to see in the New Year bade as badly for the year ahead as it did for my taste buds. I nipped into the RSL in the afternoon – see above photo – and arranged to deposit ample supplies of Hargreaves Hill ESB behind the bar, with a chunk of ‘corkage’ easing the way. We had a great night, meeting all sorts of people and experiencing little competition for the dance floor in spite of the DJ’s inspiring efforts. The mode of transport shown in the photo turned out to be unrepresentative of the age group there on the night. Sadly it wasn’t there when we set off to walk home.

In the other direction from Cockatoo lay Gembrook. This beautiful village seemed popular

 

with the lycra brigade. The Puffing Billy steam train threads its way from Belgrave through Emerald, Cockatoo and pants to a halt in Gembrook, the end of the line. We can recommend The Independent restaurant in Gembrook, having enjoyed a stimulating dinner there on the eve of our departure from the area.

On Monday 8^th January 2018, we patted the dogs good-bye and rode off north to spend a couple of nights with Tom and Tanys, friends we had made at Conto camp site just south of Margaret River back in WA. They live in the hills near Kangaroo Ground, itself near Yarra Glenn and with time on our hands to stop for refreshments, we stopped our bikes

in Yarra Glenn outside what looked like a beautiful old building that functioned as a tea room. You can imagine the joy when, on closer inspection, it was the one and only Hargreaves Hill pub. Bliss. The ESB poster above refers to the Ashes tour underway at the time.

The two days with Tom and Tanys cemented the fledgling friendship. Their rural

property reminded us of our Rocklands former home, except theirs was on a much greater acreage. We walked, we talked, we plotted routes, we ate great food and enjoyed good beer, cider and a reasonable drop of 2012 Yarra Valley Pinot Noir. Our stay did facilitate some treatment of the goats where extra hands may have been useful. But goats are goats, always non-compliant and Louise’s latest blog captures the fun all too well. Above Louise is about to feed them pellets from a bucket.

The Great Ocean Road

Equipped with excellent directions, we left Tom and Tanys on 10^th , circumnavigated Melbourne and rode west to overnight in Colac prior to riding the Great Ocean Road from west to east. Yes, this was back-tracking but the dates of our house-sitting commitments ruled out this bit of Aussie between Penola and Cockatoo when heading east.

Louise’s good research led us to spend the night in the Princetown Reserve camp site for our first night under canvas for several weeks. It was peak holiday season so we wanted to get a tent site established around midday and only then explore the scenic treasures on the western half of the Great Ocean Road. A short distance took us to the 12 Apostles – above right. There is no doubt that this coastline is magnificent. So much so that there is a vast car and coach park inland of the road, with a shiny new building selling tourist essentials such as PEP bottles full of fizz, ice creams and toilets to relieve the masses. A 4 metre wide concrete pathway conveys the incoming tourism tide under the road and over to various look-out points. The human mix was 90% Asian, a bristling mass of ‘selfie sticks’, all looking to demonstrate that they ‘were there’, even if the view of ‘there’ was obliterated by ‘them’. With Tom and Tanys conversations had included reference to quality of life for Aussies and Kiwis as a priority of policy ahead of quantity of GDP growth. Immigration numbers to New Zealand and tourism numbers to both countries were touched upon in the context of a need to start a public debate about having an upper limit. The photo above should serve as a picture of Rotorua, Queenstown, the Coromandal, Bay of Islands, Nelson’s Abel Tasman National Park in the future if no cap on inbound tourism is introduced. Unless New Zealand’s policy settings change from GDP growth to growth within the constraints dictated by qualitative factors for Kiwis and visitors to the country, New Zealand is on a trajectory to achieve the sights above at an increasing number of ‘tourism’ sites – it is only a question of how much time.

We both felt that the beauty of the natural seascape was marred by the crush of tourists, including ourselves, so we limited our stops to London Bridge, above, and the Bay of Islands (the Great Ocean Road one – below).

The next day our plan to continue east was threatened by forecast rain but once packed and loaded, was thwarted by a puncture in Louise’s front tyre. Options were slim and we found ourselves back in Colac for two nights, one required by the puncture, the next persuaded by the foul weather.

On the cloudy morning of 15^th January we rode south from Colac to rejoin the Great Ocean Road near Apollo Bay. The ride south was invigorating and testing. The road surface was variable with some longitudinal furrows in the tarmac that induced a shimmy or two. The rain came and went while the wind blew in blusters and sideways belts. Over big hills, along twisting roads often sheltered from the sun by lines of bush left and right, we took it gently, finally being rewarded by a huge vista of coastline beyond the beautiful landscape.

For a while we roared along the Great Ocean Road, slowing before bends, leaning and accelerating into them, then immediately one the other way. We snatched quick glances at the unfolding seascape but the focus was on riding well. Eventually cars got in the way and then, at the eastern end, we became part of a long procession of vehicles all cramming their way through the towns of Lorne, Anglesea and Torquay, themselves a-throng with pedestrians.

Being keen to avoid Melbourne, we headed for the Queenscliff to Sorento ferry – Louise waiting on the vehicle deck below.

After 352 kms from Colac, we toodled into the Opel Motel in Leongatha. Due to a combination of wet weather and totally full camp sites, we had to make this our base for three nights from which to explore Wilsons Promontory, the southern-most point of Australia.

Wilsons Propomtory

This natural promontory is exclusively The Wilsons Promontory National Park and pokes out from the mainland about 50kms southwards. We rode for an hour or so from Leongatha to Tidal River as far as the road would take us. The beach for the Tidal river camp site is on the left. The helpful people at the camp site looked after our bike gear leaving us suitably clad to go on a walk to Squeeky Beach (below) and on to Picnic Beach. I boldly ventured into the sea to humiliate some waves with a bit of body surfing. The waves had other ideas and with a couple of glorious exceptions, I experienced the front-loading washing machine treatment.

This beautiful bit of land offers high rewards to those prepared to do some multi-day walks with virtually untouched bays and high hills preserved for native fauna and flora to flourish.

Omeo in the Victorian Mountains

Tom and Tanys had suggested we detour from our eastward journey along the coast road and head north to Omeo in the Alpine National Park, part of Australia’s Great Dividing Range.

Just as described to us, the ride up was terrific, big hills, bends, bends and more bends – a superb antidote to the straight roads of the bulk of this odyssey. The map above gives a clue as to the location and terrain.

The Hilltop Hotel offered free camping to the rear, (per photo below) with access to shower and toilet and with no obligation to eat there. We made this our base for three days and ate in the pub every night – excellent value.

Omeo was another gold rush centre, albeit a small one. We did a 6 km walk out to and around the Oriental gold mining site. It was an alluvial mining operation, the sluicing of the clay combining with the diggings to create a wasteland. For environmental reasons it was closed down in the early 1900s after 50 years of continuous production. We re-entered Omeo via the local swimming hole where a cooling dip hit the spot on this mid-thirties day.

Yogi Holten was motorbiking his way back to Sydney from Melbourne, camping at the pub as well. We teamed up with this interesting and entertaining character. He led us on a loop ride, out to Falls Creek (Ski field sans snow above), Mount Beauty, across a hairy link road to the B500 and along to Harrietville, up to Mount Hotham – photo below taken at the Mt Hotham look-out near the summit, Yogi on left. and back to Omeo. On the Saturday (20^th) the three of us shifted camp to a little reserve by a bend in the river at Angler’s Rest – photo below

It was lunch-time so having set up our tents, we rode a kilometer to The Blue Duck pub (below) where a steak and Guinness pie achieved a unique 10 rating. Well fed, we rode back to camp and slipped into the pristine waters of the gentle little river to cool off. That evening it was steak and salad by the river, invigorating conversation and a skyful of stars to bid us all good-night. This is a truly tough lifestyle.

 

 

No Sunday morning lie-in – we were up, packed and off by 9.30 riding to the South East tip of Australia, some 303 kms away along magnificent motorbike riding country. Yogi Bear packed up his honey pots and headed north but not off our radar.

Last Stay in Victoria – Mallacoota

Right down in the SE corner, 23 kms off the Prince’s Highway (A1 coast road around Aussie) lay Mallacoota, a low key Aussie village by a beach and an inlet. The beach was the normal expanse of white sand and blue sea, this one complete with local Surf-Life Savers. The surf was ideal for body-surfing – no washing-machine treatment this time, just zooming in to the beach an seething white surf.

When Tuesday morning came, we headed back up to the coast road to ride up to Eden, crossing the border into New South Wales along the way. That state will have to wait for the next posting.

Louise would have remained faithful to the two-wheeled mode of transport but we had sampled plenty of days of long, straight roads across endless flat expanses of nothingness and four more across the Nullarbor was four too many for me. Additionally, I had fancied the idea of a long train trip for some time.

Thus it was that  our bikes were consigned to lorry transport on 17^th and we boarded the 675 metre long Indian Pacific Train at East Perth station for an all-inclusive choo choo ride across to Adelaide, some 2,669 kms to the east.

 

Unlike a long-distance trip on a passenger jet, there is scenery passing the window.

However, after the first couple of hours of valleys, hills and river views, we crossed a long stretch of the wheat belt with the land flattening out and eventually, becoming desolate in a familiar way.

We stopped at Kalgoorlie for an off-train excursion. Due to a wild storm the previous day, most of the town was in darkness and our trip was confined to a look into the “Superpit”, the largest open cast mine in Australia – also in darkness. The patterns of little lights are the large lorries filling and making their way up and out of the 3.5 kms long, 1.5 wide and 600 metres deep pit. Like the Tom Price mine up in the Pilbara, the numbers were mind-blowing. It took the entire 255 tonnes of dirt in the back of one house-sized lorry, to make a golf-ball-sized lump of gold. The cost of production is high at around US$900 per tonne but with the spot price being relatively stable around US$1200 and the scale of production so vast, there’s a bit of profit being enjoyed.

Early, too early for us, on the second day, the train stopped at Rawlinna where there seemed to be little to suggest there was a place to be named. Apparently, Australia’s largest sheep station abuts the track – a 2.5 million acre farm, 300 blades of grass and 70,000 sheep. Lurking in the dim recesses of my brain is a lecture or two and a BSc (Agriculture) that mumbles something about the maths not adding up too well – for the sheep.

The next stop was at a thriving metropolis named Cook. Both inhabitants exist there to service the train. Initially I thought that, with just one train passing through per week, life in Cook might be a fraction dull. But when I asked a chap driving a ute about the pace of life, or something along those lines, he explained how Cook receives visits from other trains, all bringing supplies for the Indian Pacific. Fuel was one example he volunteered. In case you think the railway line shown above looks straight, it was. In fact, 487 kilometres of dead straight rail track – the longest straight stretch of railway in the world.

At pre-dinner drinks on the second night, we were advised to put our time-pieces forward 2.5 hours due to crossing the border into South Australia during the night. With an early morning arrival in Adelaide the next day, this slight of hand was to crimp our night’s sleep and its announcement, intended to cramp our night’s frivolities in the bar. Eventually, we rumbled into Adelaide, farewelled the wonderful staff that had looked after us and the new friends we had made on the journey. This choo choo treat wetted the appetite for other long rail journeys elsewhere in the world.

Adelaide

On 24 November, after three nights in a central apartment, we moved into a house in Glenelg where we were entrusted with the care and maintenance of a thoroughly independent cat.

A few days later Holly and Hamish arrived and stayed at a nearby motel for 4 days. This marked the end of their 2+ years in Sydney and the beginning of their own major overseas trip.

Photo left, we enjoyed introducing them to the Central markets.

Hamish’s birthday fell right in the middle of their stay. We booked a table at a tapas place

and while the girls were getting fluffed up, I took Hamish on an advance sortie to The Wheatsheaf on George Street, to sample its hand-pulled offerings. A Ferrari garage interrupted our tram trip, but Hamish didn’t seem to mind.

Complete with the girls in the team and replete with good ale, we had a delightful meal, after which, Birthday Boy wished to kick on and find a whisky bar or two.  Louise and Holly headed home while I accompanied Hamish as he sniffed out hidden dungeons a little bit like Baxter’s in Sydney. The photo above right was taken in an attempt to record the beautiful manifestations from the top shelf , and as if to back up the claim that the camera never lies, the shot is slightly blurred. After three bars and three delicious shots, I felt it was time to totter home. A great night and a birthday well celebrated.

Friday came and Holly and Hamish departed to Cairns, Holly via a family do in Canberra, Hamish to complete a work project. On Tuesday 12 December, they flew out of Cairns to SE Asia and the beginning of their ‘Big OE’ – which is their story.

Old school friend Andrew Renaut arrived the following day to celebrate his birthday of the previous day and then join us at the Adelaide Oval for a couple of days of the second Ashes Test. The venue was great giving us excellent views of the action (below left).

The old scoreboard (above right) was magnificent, although it gradually became less so from an English perspective. The Adelaide Test was a day-night experiment, allowing locals to get a day’s work in and still see half the action. For us the delayed start facilitated a visit to the Central Markets for a forage and a lunch – right. On his last day we hired a car to visit a few McLaren Vale wineries, starting at D’Arenberg, going out to Yangarra (superb) see photo below

and finishing at Wirra Wirra (not so good). From there to The Star of Greece for a splendid lunch – any foodies visiting this area should work a lunch here into their itinerary.

Before leaving Adelaide we were due to meet up with friends Polly and Ray but a tummy upset ruled Louise out and cramped my options when I caught up with them for an abbreviated lunch – it was good to at least catch up on each-other’s news.

On Sunday 10^th December we loaded our neglected motorbikes and rode 380 kms south east to Penola in the deep south east of South Australia, close to the state border with Victoria.

Penola Flower Farm – A ‘Workaway’ Stay

About 35 kms along the road from Penola to Robe on the coast, is a 200 hectare farm, part of which is planted with various varieties of native Banksias – see example below

We met the owners, Jessie and Edna in the Penola Bakery and followed them away from signal, away from people and along to their remote farm. They showed us around, providing an insight into this unusual enterprise and then left us at the one-bedroomed cottage which lies totally surrounded by old native bush, about 1 km from their ‘farm’ house (they also have a cottage in Penola with eventual retirement in mind).

Jessie and Edna’s interpretation of the “labour-for-board-and-lodging” exchange struck us as generous – we were required to work for 6 hours on 3 out of 7 days – they provided us with a spacious cottage and funded our groceries.

Our main project was to restore a fenced plot, including the fence itself, with the objective  being to create a predator-proof area in which to experiment with different annual crops, with a small chicken population being rotated to improve soil aeration and nutritional quality.

When it became too hot, we all shifted into the main flower shed to prepare that day’s crop for market. Apart from benefitting from the shade, we learned about Banksias, the flowers, the buds and the nuts, as saleable items. The main market, via a wholesaler, is Japan where other producers in Africa and elsewhere are less able to compete. The idea behind the experiment  into annual crops is to identify a viable diversification to the farm’s main income stream while keeping the manual effort to within the two-person team that is already pushed pretty hard. The photo on the left shows the progress we made relative to the one above it, taken early on in the effort.  We enjoyed the work, the learning opportunity and most of all, the insight into this particularly brave and hard-working couple. Thinking of Africa,  while I was banging in fence posts, Louise spent many hours wrestling a lawnmower over the dry, uneven ground, taking on Kenyan hues as she went – see photo on right of my Kenyan wife.

Meanwhile, back at our cottage, there was wildlife a-plenty, not all of it outside.

 

Having climbed into bed one night and about to read,  I noticed a large Huntsman spider skulking on the map next to me on the bedside table. He didn’t seem to mind being relocated outside as much as I minded him remaining inside.

 

On the deck outside the broad glass frontage of the cottage was a stainless steel water bowl. The arid nature of the area made this water bowl a powerful magnet for  birds which swarmed to the deck to drink and bath, providing us with far better entertainment than any TV could, even one with a signal.

The Crimson Rosellas above were as bountiful as they were beautiful but the list of birds we identified species is: Crimson Rosellas; Little Wattlebird; Silvereye; White-browed Scrub Wren; Superb Fairy Wren; White Fantail; New Holland Honey-eater; Rufous Whistler; Brown Treecreeper; Peaceful Dove; Eastern Yellow Robin; Red-browed Finch; White-eared Honey-eater; White-naped Honey-eater; Yellow-faced Honey-eater; Grey Carawong; White-throated Treecreeper; Horfield’s Bronze Cuckoo; Brown Thornbill; Common Bronzewing.

Coonawarra Wine Region

Penola is right on the southern edge of the Coonawarra wine region, a persuasive proximity.

On Saturday 16^th our visits were: Bellweather Wines; Redman Wines; Wynns – see photo of iconic main building below

Zema; and lastly, Balnaves. Of these, our pick was Zema, the quality of its Shiraz and Cabernet  Sauvignon was grander than the price suggested.

Being gluttons for punishment, we returned the next day:

Rymill; Bowan; and lastly, Leconfield. Louise particularly rated Bowen and although wowed by its wines, my pick from the whole lot was still Zema which also had the good grace to offer a ‘Museum Wine list, as above right.

 

We found the Coonawarra Shiraz quite striking. There was an almost  sweet backdrop to the flavours arrayed on the pallet. The answer lay beneath our feet in the famous Terra Rossa soils – per the photo of a soil profile to the left.

Quoting the region’s promotional material:

Almost a million years ago, an ocean teeming with sea-life lapped at the feet of the ancient Kanawinka Escarpment.  Then came an ice age, and the great melt that followed led to the creation of the chalky white bedrock which is the foundation of this unique region.  But nature had not finished, for with her winds, rain and sand she blanketed the plain with a soil rich in iron, silica and nutrients, to become one of the most renowned terroir soils in the world.

Most of the wineries we visited or passed had prominent Santas, each demonstrating a particular recreational activity. This ‘theme’ seemed to have been agreed as a local promotion. Louise included a few in her Christmas post. The one above right was outside a farm on the road from Penola back to the flower farm. This one is fishing.

All too soon,  our time with Jessie and Edna came to an end and on Christmas Day, we took one last glance at the aviary-like theatre and rode off east 340 kms to check into the Mid City Hotel in Ballarat before 12 noon when a ‘Special Christmas Day’ lunch awaited us.

Bye-bye South Australia – Hello Victoria

Early on our journey to Ballarat we crossed the border into Victoria and having been asleep on a train when we crossed from WA into South Australia, I’ve included both border crossing signs below, to be sure that you understand where we’ve been.

Our next destination was really Cockatoo in the Dandenong Hills east of Melbourne where we were due at a ‘house/dog sit’ on 26^th. We didn’t want to spend too much of our Christmas Day on the bikes, hence the overnight stay in Ballarat. And what a treat it was too. The Mid City Hotel is a little tired in terms of décor but the management and catering staff pushed the boat out with their Christmas Lunch Special with a fixed, all inclusive price. The food was exquisite and the wines selected to compliment it were interesting, appropriate and in most cases, sumptuous. A Skype call with family slotted into the middle of our lunch which added to the sense of occasion and allowed us to feel less like distant vagrants.

Finally for this blog, we breakfasted well on Boxing Day, mounted our trusty steeds, and set off on a meandering Melbourne-free ride to Cockatoo. More on this later.