The Apple (and cheese) isle

Just got back from a week in Tassie. Can't believe that's the first time I've made it to that state, considering I grew up just across the water in Melbourne. We had a great time ... but I don't know whether it was the clean air - or too much cheese and chocolate and wine - but the three of us somehow managed to reduce our IQ to the size of Jessica Simpson's.

Example 1.

Tasmania is a beautiful, diverse state. But quite small compared to the rest of Australia. So we just assumed we'd be able to see everything in 7 days. So instead of perhaps, say, looking at a map and figuring out where we were going ... we instead rocked up to Hobart with no accommodation, and no idea of where we were going. With every decent option in town booked out, we ended up staying in a grubby hostel that hadn't had clean sheets for about 10 years. Ok - I can deal with that for a night. What I can't deal with is the fire alarm going off at 6am because someone burned toast. Thank god I had proper PJ's on ... I really was ready to impress the cute fireman that arrived to 'rescue us'. Drama over - we pulled out the map. Did Michele's plan devised over 3 bottles of wine on a Hobart Wharf last night make sense? We were about to find out.

Example 2.

3 educated women - we pride ourselves on the ability not to follow the guidebook exactly, and perhaps take a few turns of the road to explore. Unfortunately this falls through when we lost our common sense on arrival in Tassie. Pulling into a car park filled with motorhomes - and what was that? - the SES? - we all thought the people setting up picnics on the side of the road were slightly strange. Never mind, we wanted to explore. Nobody bothered to ask what was going on. Nor what the green and white checked tape we drove over to reach the car park was. So after swimming in the lovely creek in the rainforest, we were preparing to leave when a police car (siren blazing) came screetching through. When Michele (of course, the ever sensible one), went to ask what was going on, we were told the road was closed for the next four hours for a car rally. "Do we like car racing" was the question? "No", "Well, you're going to have to now!". 4 hours and 2 blocks of cheese later - we were back on the road with a new appreciation of rally cars.

There were plenty of more examples of course ... but I would like to leave some pride in tact. And also have some internet time left to figure out how to upload some photos onto this thing.

Ciao for now ...

Things I've learned

I'm finding road trips a constant source of learning.

Things I've learned in this past week are:

1. Wineries are good. Tasting expensive wine is good. Realising you're not allowed to drink and drive is bad. Lesson learned. Luckily the South Australian police weren't on the ball. Today I am paying my sister $5 to drive me around the wineries near my parents place, so I can drink during the day again.

2. Going back to a childhood 'home' after many years away is a bitter sweet experience. Apollo Bay is still beautiful, still cold, still raining. But it's been 'poshed up'. The inground trampolines are gone. Skid Row is full of Jaycos. I understand this last point will not make sense to most people, but imagine your childhood campground ruined by the latte drinking set. It's slightly disconcerting. My lesson learned here was perhaps to leave the past in the past. Childhood memories should be coated in sugar, and left there.

3. Lesson 3: Don't mix gin and jager and pimms and vodka and wine. It only leads to 4am 'shopping trips' , where slightly confused drunk people end up sleepwalking and climbing boxes inside a storage room.

4. Realise that I am still unemployed and have no prospects of a job for many months to come. I can't afford to buy things. Lesson - instead of shopping on Brunswick St all afternoon, plonk yourself at a bar, drink cheap beer, wait until the shops close, then pine over the funkiest kick arse shoes I should have bought for $35.

Hope everyone is enjoying their Tuesday morning ... I'm off to the Yarra Valley to check out more wineries.

City slickers

Imagine the ugliest place in the world. Then blast a nuclear bomb over it. Leave it to brew for a while, then build a town into it.

This is what we discovered when we hit Coober Pedy. Wow. What an incredible place.

Being the only guests with a creepy hotel manager in an underground hotel wasn't enough Texas Chainsaw Massacre for us in this place. No - we decided to make the most of the underground bar.

I don't know whether you get drunk more quickly underground. I know that champagne doesn't bubble on the London Underground because of different pressure. I'm guessing that means the alcohol is stronger underground. Or it could be the fact that creepy Canadian men and strange bartenders liked to give us as much wine as they could for free. The results were interesting to say the least. Annika and I worked behind the bar for a while, I took up chair dancing, and Michele and Annika decided that a 1am ride around town with a strange Canadian was absolutely neccessary in the hunt for Tim Tams.

Luckily we survived though, because the next day was my day to choose the road trip sound track, and I really wanted to inflict the others with some bad renditions of Australian pub rock.

So now we're in Adelaide.

After days of stopping in the middle of the road for a picnic, doing cartwheels in the middle of the highway, dodging camels and emus, and taking too many pictures of strange road signs, we're in a city.

I can put make up on for the first time in ages, and feel mildly human again. I can order cocktails slightly more complex than rum and coke. And it's raining and cold. I love it. (loving the cold thing is probably temporary, I'm sure I'll miss Darwin weather soon).

Ok - off to explore this city, and maybe have a civilised drink in a civilised winery.