the grampians

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a world away


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The wind was blowing fast; along the path patches of sunlight rolled enticingly towards us, accelerated and suddenly vanished just out of reach. We hurriedly hiked to escape the shadows, as we moved upwards trees gave way to low scrub and the view went from metres to miles. The hills rose and fell like a shaggy green pelt, rubbed raw in places to reveal craggy reddish rock. The parasitic trails of humans snailing through the shivering green.


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Later in the valley we replaced the howl of the wind with the soft munching of furry jaws. The wallabies gently nibbled, while their coarser cousins spent the afternoon fully dedicated to a good scratch. Standing on hind legs, faces pinched in concentration, nails running over their bellies and backs – a little gang of hairy old men, inhibitions long lost, pot bellies out and proud.
I watched a wallaby with a low furry tum lop closer, then suddenly a tiny bright eyed face appeared behind her forefoot. A surge of pure joy jumped through me, delight is not lost with childhood, just harder to grasp.

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From Oberon to Waterloo

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a mini otway adventure


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Through mountains haloed in mist we wandered. Umbrellas and ponchos setting us apart from the average hiker… if only there was one to pass us by on the sandy trails.

Carly’s shoe that had been faithful for so many years fell to pieces on her, but any attempts to go bare foot were rebuffed by a path that peevishly changed from soft silky sand to stones and mud puddles.

The fog dampened sound, all was silent. Hazy faces emerged: a rock imitating a man eating an ice cream, another a deranged swamp creature and finally a living one – the furry face of a wallaby.

Back at the Tidal River Car park a sign had boasted a photographic trail of the latest flood event, never had photos of damaged bridges been so celebrated. We came upon the replacement recycled plastic boardwalk with some disappointment, as man’s mark tends to destroy the daydream of wilderness, especially when moulded from plastic bags. How exactly are you meant to pretend you that the cratered boulders are trolls caught out in the light of day when you’ve got plastic underfoot, albeit much more comfortable than being knee deep in the much and the mire. It was good to see the workers had a sense of humour though, their lunch spot emblazoned with not one but two larrikin signs.

So blue it warmed your soul – Waterloo Bay. On a distant rock sat a black and white bird, our naked eyes keeping the dream alive that it might actually be a penguin, not even 20-20 Dylan could say it was for sure. Closer inspection with the zoom lens sadly showed it to be more like some sort of Petrel, no offence Petrel, but you just aren’t in the same league as a Little Penguin.


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Wilsons Promontory

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part 1
a winter escape from the city


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Ididn’t realise the city had such a tight grip around my lungs until we got away from it. That high chested, frenetic breath deeped and lowered as my lungs filled with fresh air of the Prom, that southernmost of scenic experiences. Of course when we got to the hiking up mountains part it turned to a wheeze and a gasp, but that had nothing to do with the location and everything to do with my winter lazybones (they burn with outrage at the mention of activity, I told them to shut up).

It was Dylan’s birthday holiday and his natural inclination to being the best at everything saw us setting out as lightweight explorers. Streamlined down to a single change of clothes and dehydrated food, the delicious lightness of our packs made it feel more like a day walk than a three day camping trip.

Wild bees and birds and orange lichen coloured rocks in an azure sea welcomed us at Oberon Bay.

Those tiniest of birds, puffed up like haughty waitstaff in their brightly coloured vests flitted around us at the campsite. One moment here, then there jerking their heads like stop motion stars. One second for us must be a thousand years to them as they danced in the fading light of unseasonably sunny day, that would earn us some bragging rights back home in dreary Melbourne.

The dehydrated food took only a few minutes to cook and was surprisingly delicious! Initially skeptical of Dylan’s powdered offering I was quick to retract my raised eyebrows when the coconut curry rice proved to be the most gourmet camping food I had ever had. Birthday chocolate and tea was devoured and then to bed by 6 as the sun vanished. Then the drums began a consistent thundering beat on our tent as the skies wept.

As always I took way to many photos so I’ll space them out over a few posts these next few weeks to give you a breather. But with such breathtaking scenery who can blame me? What’s your favourite city escape?


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parkers inlet

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a mini otway adventure


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It would be clear to all regular visitors that I have fallen so far behind in my blogging that I am currently writing my gardening posts to coincide with the seasons in the Northern hemisphere, so just for a breath of fresh air I’m actually posting photos I took last weekend rather than 6 months ago.

A great ocean walk was a welcome escape from the city.

Despite a few autumn rain showers the air didn’t have that inland chill. Although our housemate, Jess, may not have agreed. Shod in inappropriate footwear, she was lead first into a bog, masquerading as a delightful field of bobbing rushes and then through a tidal creek. She was not as lucky as me to get a piggyback across. Slow to mastered the art of outrage tempered with well timed puppy dog eyes, she made it across in time for a gentle outpouring of wintry rain. A chance for Dylan, ever the adventurer, to try out his new lightweight camping umbrella (apparently all the cool hikers have one).

In the end we were driven to shelter for a sojourn of hot tea on a camping stove and a chance for Jess to dry her hems. Did I mention that she is suffering from bursitis in her foot? The walking pole became her new best friend, and her spirits seemed to soar with ever tribulation that befell her. I think that the white chocolate berry macadamia delight she had smuggled in Dylan’s backpack as well as the stunning location didn’t hurt either.

Some rock scrambling ensued between high tide wave sets that led us to towering dunes. Slower to scramble up the crumbling mounds Jess and I found ourselves alone at the top, Dylan had vanished. We screamed and whislted into the wind as dusk settled around us. Resigned to our fate of night in the scrub he reappeared from the besach below us having completed the loop and returned to congratulate himself. Luckily he brought a rainbow with him or he would have been in real big trouble.


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