I might have prematurely predicted the demise of my shorts (still wearing them) but now the clocks have gone back here there's a definite wintery feel - but that didn't stop me having a great weekend, after a hard week during which I pulled a muscle in my side making biscuits (don't ask).
First off I found somewhere to live. It's in North Melbourne, just round the corner from Victoria Market (of Night Market pig-out fame) and on the bus route to work (oh yes, 25 mins door to door). It's the ground floor flat of a couple's three-storey house and I move in over the Easter weekend.
And to make the weekend even better I headed off with J and M (names reduced to initials to protect their anonymity) to the famous Hanging Rock (off Picnic At fame). Before we experienced the mystery of the rock though we went for (the most expensive) lunch (I've ever had) in a lovely town called Kyneton. It's quite an arty place, with shops selling nothing but relishes, and trendy galleries/shops that would be more suited to Hoxton than a small Victorian country town, and the restaurant we went to fit in well with this general artiness. All the produce is grown in the chef's garden and even though it was pricey it was also excellent - locally-foraged mushrooms (luckily they didn't pick any poisonous ones) on sourdough bread with poached quail's eggs on top; home-made gnocchi with pumpkin; the chocolate pudding you see below; and some delicious cheeses. Plus my palate seems to have matured because I now can drink Chardonnay without shuddering (previously I could only drink Sauvignon Blanc without shuddering).
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| An arty-farty shop |
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| Look at it. Just look at it. And the cheese behind too. |
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| If you think I look a bit simple in this photo then I blame the chocolate pud |
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| Annie's garden. And no, those upturned wellies aren't previous diners poisoned by the locally-foraged mushrooms. |
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| We didn't go for a drink here. |
And then it was off to Hanging Rock.
In case you don't know the story, there was a group of schoolgirls in 1900 who went for a Valentine's Day picnic. Three of them, plus a teacher, went for a walk on the rock - and disappeared. One of them was found a week later but had no memory of what had happened. The others were never found. But before you think 'wow, that's incredible' I need to add that it was all made up by author Joan Lindsay in the 1960s. Only she never admitted that it was a made-up story.
Anyway, irrespective of the truth or not of the story, the area is beautiful. Instead of just one 'hanging rock' it's more a hill of rock formations with a route to the summit passing several rocks that look like something else - the Cathedral, the Flying Saucer, Stonehenge. You need quite a lot of imagination to see these natural sculptures but it's still impressive and a little bit mysterious with great views from the top.
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| Do I look suitably scary? Or like an idiot? |
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| Me and "J" at the summit (I still look a bit simple so let's blame the chocolate pud again) |
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| Is that a Cathedral? Or a Flying Saucer? |
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| The Hanging Rock itself. More like toppled over. |
And the perfect finale to a great weekend was that there was lots of dappling on the drive back to Melbourne - my favourite thing in the world after chips.
And that's it for now. I'll keep you updated on the shorts front.
Cliff
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