Humble Traveller: 2008

Shell Harbour

OK, last night on holiday and we headed off for a last look at the ocean. Shell Harbour is a very nice resort with most of what you would want for a night's stop. (Although, I couldn't quite get the plot of Dark City out of my head - yes, I know not quite Shell Beach but you get the idea)

There's a great little harbour.

Pelicans resting on the street lights.

View from - what else - the pub.

Bowral

Bowral, in case you've been living under a rock, is where Don Bradman got started. Consequentially, the town is a museum to his life and career.

The oval where the Don played his first matches.

This incorporates an excellent museum (that, for some reason, doesn't let you take piccies) and, if you squint there is a statue of the man himself at the other end of the pond.

Cows. We went off to have a look around a local winery. For some reason.

The grounds are lovely.

There's lots of wine and it's probably very good stuff judging by the snotiness of the staff. (Winery tip 1: The more aloof the staff, the more expensive the wine. Winery tip 2: It all tastes like grapes so get over it. Winery tip 3: Beer is ALWAYS better).

Lot of money has gone into the place.

And there's a proper garden with a fountain - though they would probably call it a 'water feature'.

Sutton Forest

Sutton Forest is little more than a hamlet with a Scottish shop (which is utterly rubbish - unless, I suppose, you're the sort of Jock who still thinks that kilts are a pretty good idea) and a pub. Ah, a pub.

The pub.

The pub's pool table.

Around about this time, I managed to stub my toe getting into a shower (I know I'm English but I have a shower once a month whether I need one or not). Thought I'd share the aftermath.

Berrima

Dotted around the Southern Highlands ar a few towns and villages all with something to offer.

Like this pub - The Surveyor General Inn. Another one of those 'the oldest pub with [insert obscure feature here]' but is was very nice.

An amusing pig trying to get a cup of tea.

Oooo, and a great big candy store where much produce was acquired.

Big Potato

The Big Potato at Robertson. This trip was also supposed to catch us the Big Poo but, very disappointingly, it it no longer there. Still this looks pretty close.

Potato or Poo?

Kangaroo Valley

This place is amazing. It's only a couple of hours from Sydney and it's a fairly isolated bit of countryside up over the hills. Consequentially, it's very green and there's lots of rivers and waterfalls.

Of course, there's a fudge shop. And, of course, we had to get a big bag of it. Yum.

There's an old suspension bridge - which, for some reason, I wish to emphasise the extent of but putting my arms out. Huh?

If you fall off the bridge, this is what you land in.

Then there's this great big waterfall. Don't ask me how far it goes down, it was a bit misty that day and you couldn't see the bottom. Probably wouldn't want to find out the quick way, either.

This little fella (in Australia, a 'little fella' is anything that would gladly chew your arm off) is a Red Bellied Black Snake (you will also notice the Australian penchant for literal nomenclature). It's bite is classified as 'very dangerous' (in Australia, this means the treatment may keep you away from your beer) and it can give birth to up to 40 live young (young, as in 'utter bastards'). Lovely. This was coming right at me so I jumped in the car, locked all the doors and screamed like a girl.

Big Cheese

This big guy is on the road near Bodella. Lovely.

A painted water tank, apparently.

Tilba

Tilba is one of those little towns where a load of arty-hippy types have set up shop and then been confronted by the grim reality of economics. These guys don't seem to be doing that badly, though. They must sell enough lentil-soled jesus boots, purple kaftans and aroma-crapery candles to keep them in splifs and healing stones.

Actually, this wasn't Tilba at all. This is the cheese factory at Bega. Where the cheese comes from.

Tilba's pub.

The high street - where bloody everything is 'organic'. Damn the misuse of scientific language by those without a real chemistry qualification.

Finally, Kim poses outside the B&B.

Merimbula

A well, known seaside spot - and very lovely it is, too.

A bit of sea scenery.

Likewise, with red rocks and a bloke fishing.

Saw this little guy on a bit of a nature walk - to the nearest pub.

A Little Grebe, or the Loch Ness Monster. You decide.

Lakes Entrance

Lakes Entrance - the seaside proper.

Selling your children to passing sailors was quite popular at one time. Of course, that sort of thing is frowned upon these days. You have to go through the government now.

Me, obviously, in a not-so-hotted-up boat. Didn't sink it, either.

These guys want your ice cream.

Course, we had to have some grub at the local floating restaurant.

They had VB. Oh, and some food.

This parrot was at the hotel we stayed and wanted to say 'hello' a lot, especially if you fed him peanuts.

Bairnsdale

That's enough of up mountain stuff - no more snow, thank you very much. As per the plan, we dropped down on to the south Victorian coast to slowly make our way back home. First stop was Bairnsdale. Not much of a town but it did have a nice church. Would my presence shatter all the windows? Well, we'll just have to wait and see.

Bah. Those grafitti kids get everywhere.

Window seems intact. And there's a bloke sunbaking underneath, too.

It is very nice. There was a time all churches in Europe were as brightly painted. It's just that you would have thought that a church that puts such emphasis on charity would have had higher priorities. Anyhoo, their call, I guess.