As decided last night, we rose a little earlier as we would be putting in a full day on the road in order to get home.
Also last night, of course well after the Reception desk had closed, I took up my trusty iPad in order to write my blog. The error message told me, in effect, that only two devices could connect to the free wifi. That is two in total, not any two at the same time. Liz and I had both connected our phones much earlier and that was that! Upon checking out I explained to the manager that these days, most individuals have at least two wifi devices. He tried to explain his position, but he was never going to win that one with me. Perhaps future guests will benefit from a modern day response to a modern day reality. But my 5% discount for being a Best Western loyalty member cheered me up a little! No breakfast at the BW, unless it is room service. We had not even considered it, so no sweat, on the bike to see what the town (for Lakes Entrance is indeed a town) had to offer. Once down the strip and then a U-turn to where all the people were, at Amanti's. As we parked, a busker came over, having noticed the stickers on the panniers. He asked if we indeed shipped the bike over to the USA. Apart from a couple of folk who walked past here and there saying things like 'nice bike', 'well set-up'; only the two bikers at Cabramurra had actually engaged us in a meaningful discussion. We contrasted that with our USA experience, where the bike was a major conversation starter, or even just the wearing of our biking gear. Into Amanti's for a light breakfast and some quite decent coffee before hitting the road again. The road from Melbourne into Lakes Entrance comes over the top of a high-ish hill, and one is presented with a great view over the Gippsland Lakes and the entrance to Bass Strait. Going the other way one misses that 'wow!' opportunity, rather having to pull sedately into the turnout and two turn-outs/viewing areas a little below the crest. Still, with blue sky it is a very picturesque sight, and the photos demonstrate that quite well. As we finally pulled away, Liz said over the intercom that Lakes Entrance is a place where one could easily spend a few days. High praise indeed! We made good time into Bairnsdale, which is a substantial regional city; and filled up with petrol. Not for the first time did a cashier comment on the amount of fuel it took. On this occasion, it was a touch over 30 litres. Some small cars don't take as much when filling up :-) But that is one of the reasons I bought this particular model. I was consistently getting just over 600 kms to the tank. Instead of barrelling down the Princes Highway, we took a 'C' road to the city of Sale via a speck on the map called Meerlieu, enjoying the road alone for most of the distance. It was well fenced so I had no fear of unsupervised farm animals on the road but I am always alert and just slightly anxious about a chance meeting with a kangaroo or wallaby. They are very stupid creatures. Fortunately, they are mainly nocturnal and also incredibly lazy, so they rarely venture out of the bush during the day. In Sale we stopped at the Redd Catt for a very tasty light lunch before pushing on again. Once more, we opted to avoid the Highway, which was due to become four-lane. Thus it was on the C440 that we passed through Yarram, Alberton, Welshpool, Foster and Meeniyan to Leongatha, where we made our final stop. There are some very enjoyable bends on the road and the scenery in places is also very attractive. The sky was blue, with only occasional clouds. At a warm 27C Liz was comfortable and it was a great ride, only one moment of concern where one fool in a car lost concentration as he approached us - on a straight - and drifted well onto our side of the road. I hooted immediately and he drifted back. I thought he looked annoyed - at me!!?? Leongatha is about forty minutes from Venus Bay, so we know it quite well. Some years ago there was a general household shop of note called Henrietta's that sold some pretty interesting and indeed useful household items. It burnt down a number of years ago and has only recently moved into its new home. Liz did some quick browsing and then we settled down to enjoy our cool drinks. Thus refreshed, it was time to complete our journey. The South Gippsland Highway (a main road, really) is well known to me and it went very smoothly. Eventually it made sense to get onto the freeway for our final run in. It was very busy but there were no delays and bang on 4.00pm we pulled into the driveway. 2,557 kilometres. Thanks for coming along on the ride.
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I am going to start this post by expressing my severe disappointment with my Web host, Weebly.com. Losing a blog post once is annoying. Twice, it really shouldn't happen. A third time; it is not me, it is them. I will not go into the technicalities of what happened; but because I am invested in them to the extent of dollars, time, publicity and the folk who have shown the interest in visiting our two web sites, I cannot throw them in the trash can just yet - although I am sorely tempted.
Back to business. But let me first save what I have done :-( Our cabin at the Shady Gully Caravan Park was clean, certainly spacious enough for two enough for two but pretty basic for the money. In their favour they allowed the connection of up to five wifi devices. However, the free limit was 300 megabytes. When one adult is Facebooking and emailing; and the other is doing all of that AND blogging and uploading photos, it is soon exhausted. I therefore contributed another $8.00 for the privilege of remaining connected and working. (That was after I lost my first blog effort) We left the park just before the checkout time of 10.00 am and took ourselves back down to Cafe @ 54, the most salubrious of what appeared to be three eating places in the village. Well, we would not go hungry. Before we departed we did a quick tour of the place. Surrounded by the Croajingalong National Park (doesn't that just roll off the tongue?) it is located at the mouth of the Mallacoota Inlet. It is Very Pretty and Very Quiet. The greater majority of accommodation offered is caravan parks. It never ceases to amaze me that in Australia, the establishments with the very best locations i.e. absolute beach or river front; are the caravan parks. At Mallacoota, assuming you book/arrive early enough, you can park your caravan or pitch your tent twenty yards from the water and enjoy the million dollar view and, if you have one, moor - and I mean moor, not park - your motorboat in front of your spot. Did I mention that the road from Mallacoota to the Princes Highway is number 136 on Australia's Top 200? It is not a fast road, but still very pretty and worth its spot in the hierarchy. Meeting the Princes Highway, which is effectively Australia's ring road, we again turned west and thus made good time on a wide and well marked road. There were sufficient bends to make it somewhat interesting, but the bands of rain we passed through were not welcome. Again the windshield flicked most of it past us, but the road was wet and the spray from the cars just makes one slightly grimy with the finest of fine layers of mud. For old time's sake I decided to turn south to drive past Cape Conran, where the family spent the Easter long weekends for some years. I think Charles and I enjoyed it most and Fiona didn't ever complain. At the coast the road turns west again and takes one to the coastal village of Marlo, which sits at the mouth of the Snowy River. It was time for morning coffee to warm up and relax for a short while and then the road goes north to the forestry village of Orbost. Following the course of the Snowy, I noted a large number of fallen boughs from the trees on the bank, some of which had landed on the road, but the local authority had been on the job and the road was clear. Must have been a great wind that did the damage and I am very thankful we missed it. So we are then back on the Princes Highway for the final run into Lakes Entrance. We had not bothered to book ahead as there is LOADS of accommodation there. We passed motel after motel, deciding to pull into the Best Western Banjo Patterson Inn. Like Macdonalds, one knows what to expect in a Best Western, where I may still even be a Platinum loyalty member after my efforts on the USA trip! They offered us a deluxe room on the first level, promising us a view of the water. We passed up the inspection, to find that said view was largely obscured by the presence over the road of a mature cypress tree which was as wide as it was tall! Oh well, we were there mainly to relax and then sleep. We engaged in the former prior to emerging in search of dinner. A walk along the foreshore took us past the harbour and we appreciated the quietness of the view, with the reflections of the boats and jetties in the still water, with the lengthening shadow and dim lights of dusk. We passed by some wooden sculptures, photos of which appear on the Images page. These were executed in memory of those who served in the First World War, especially those who never returned home to Australia. It is often conjectured that it was the First World War that forged our identity as a nation. The ill-fated landings at Gallipoli are seared upon our national consciousness and just about every village has a memorial to the fallen. ANZAC Day is without question the holiest non-religious public holiday we have, with marches, services, speeches and other acts of remembrance. Every year, notwithstanding that most of the old soldiers are gone, the crowds swell. Even dawn services, which can be cold and sometimes wet, see increasing numbers, especially young people. Our first choice of restaurant happened to be closed so we tracked back on the other side of the street and decided to confer our patronage on Miriam's. It is quite a classy place, with a short but interesting menu and the wine wasn't bad either. Service was friendly and enthusiastic and we walked back well content with our experience. Back at the Best Western we decided that there was not much point in spending another night on the road if we were only 200 kms from home. Thus we would leave earlier and put in the 400 kms in order to sleep in our own beds the next night. Google maps says the distance from Tathra to Mallacoota is 135 km. That is correct unless you choose to go on a different route incorporating some of Australia's top 200 motorcycle rides.
This morning, being the morning after the night before, we had fully intended to sleep in a bit. However at 7:00am Liz's alarm went off. I got up and went to the kitchen where the phone was on charge, to do the honours. But at 7:30 it went off again and it was Liz's turn to get up. By then we were fully awake and shortly thereafter we rose and started packing. The discussion on where to have breakfast was very brief and after bidding farewell to our super helpful hostess, Jane, we went down to the village to once again experience a HoWeRoll Café breakfast. Liz ordered the same as the day before while I enhanced my coffee from a cup to a mug and resisted the temptation to once again have the banana pancakes. A ham, cheese and tomato croissant got the tick and the place just confirmed it was first class. They will be getting a very complimentary review from me in TripAdvisor. Time to sally forth once more. Although heading inland to Bega, we were in fact retracing our steps a little, going back towards Batemans Bay. Not too far, because about five kms out of Bega we turned left towards the escarpment. The road was good and wide with sharp bends only during the climb up the slopes past Piper's Lookout. We ascended over 1,000 metres from the coastal plain to the inland plateau in a very few minutes. The temperature dropped as quickly and not all of the drop was adiabatic. Although overcast it remained dry and, with it being Sunday, the road was very quiet. The scenery was pleasant but not spectacular so the lack of turnouts was not an issue. There are very few settlements along there, so we made good progress and just short of the village of Nimmitabel we turned south along the Monaro Highway. I observed that it was a fantastic road, as good as any major highway. My cynical mind told me that because the political party that won the constituency of Eden-Monaro in federal elections usually formed government, both major parties always spend money there. If it wasn't so cold, I would have ridden faster than the 105 kph I was averaging, because the road could easily be done at a much higher speed. Later I found that Liz was freezing. So much so that when we got to Bombala and I asked her if she wanted to stop or take a photo, she said no. A pity that I did not insist, as there were some quaint buildings there. Some fifteen kms out of Bombala we turned left along Imlay Road, another top road, but to my disappointment this road was in very poor condition . Pot holes and bumps in some profusion, apparently caused by the logging trucks. But there was no alternative so I cranked up my concentration and stiffened my suspension damping (a great feature of my bike) and proceeded with appropriate caution. Liz told me later that we went for 48 kms without seeing another vehicle or human in both directions. It was very quiet but it was, after all, Sunday. We hit the T junction with the Princes Highway and turn west. This is one of Australia's principal roads and while only single carriageway in each direction, it is maintained in excellent condition and is thus very boring riding. We cross the border into Victoria and are now looking forward to the Mallacoota turnoff at Genoa. Hooray, there it is! And it is also one of the Top 200 roads :-) It had some lovely bends and is also pretty. Just a pity about all the traffic coming towards us, especially that 4 wheel drive encroaching on our side of the road. I hope he felt very foolish as he made a severe correction with his steering wheel. We made a quick detour to Gypsy Point to see what was there. Let me just say that my feet never even touched the ground during the few minutes we were there. Straight to the village of Mallacoota where we had a bite of lunch and a coffee and then back up the road to check into our cabin at the caravan park. Once in, we confirmed the idea that we would again cook dinner for ourselves, so we shot back down to the shops to get some pasta and sauce, some nibbles, two chocolates, two ice creams and a bottle of wine! The remainder of the afternoon was spent relaxing, catching up with communications and minor chores. Dinner was a pleasant affair with the major item of business being where we will spent tomorrow night. Lakes Entrance will get the guernsey, simply so Liz can say she's been there. Kind of a rite of passage for people who live in Victoria. Finally, the distance for the day was not your straightforward google maps 135kms, but a more meandering 320 kms, covering another three of Australia's best motorcycling roads. Although Imlay Way needs urgent resurfacing. The day started with a loud rat a tat on the front door of our cabin. Bruce and Anita, contrary to advices just before retiring last night, we're not leaving at 8:00 am, but at 7:30. I had set my alarm for 7:45, so tough nuts if they didn't appreciate my tousled and drowsy appearance to bid them farewell. Liz, who was in much the same condition, hid behind me, only emerging briefly for goodbye hugs. With a blip of what I consider his overly loud non-standard exhaust pipes, they disappeared down the driveway and we returned to bed.
As we were not travelling, it was a little while before we got up again and prepared for a quiet day in Tathra. The first order of the day was something to eat, so as we were too far from the town to walk, we jumped on the bike and struck gold when choosing the 'HoWeRoll Café'. Really good coffee and food of a similar standard. While Liz was perhaps more traditional with her choice of meal, poached eggs with salmon, and what a generous serve it was too; I lashed out and had a stack of pancakes with banana, strawberries and caramel syrup. Hey, I am on holiday! Breakfast/brunch over, we then needed to execute on our plan for a simple dinner at home that evening. First port of call on this mission was the local butcher where we purchased two types of chicken kebab sticks and some prawns to deal with any possible residual hunger gaps. Then up the road a short walk to the bottle shop where we made the owner happy by reducing his inventory of two bottles that the locals do not usually purchase. We had a cheerful little chat about stock turn and money at the bank before crossing the street to the ummmm supermarket to get the salad makings. As we surveyed the (not all that fresh) contents of the cool shelf, our plans for salad steadily reduced. We finally left with two tomatoes. With that accomplished, we set off down the road to visit the historic Tathra wharf. This timber construction was built in the late 1800's to facilitate the passage of goods and people between the town and Sydney. Hard to believe at first, but in its early days, there was no road to Sydney and sea passage was it! Prior to the wharf, the steamer would anchor off shore and the goods and passengers would transfer to shore and back by rowing boat, a sometimes hazardous occupation. The wharf - and the shipping line - were commercially successful, so that every number of years the wharf was extended and/or improved. Eventually the road arrived and in time road transport became quicker and much cheaper, not to say safer, than the boat and eventually they stopped calling in the 1940's or thereabouts. The wharf fell into disrepair and the Department of Public Works declared in unsafe and started making plans to demolish it. The local community sprang into action and with the assistance of other organisations such as the National Trust, managed a reprieve and they acquired a lease. Over the years they have restored it and it now houses a quality restaurant that features local produce and also the Pig and Whistle Museum, which I was the nick name of the shipping line. The wharf is very popular with anglers and, as is my wont, I spoke to a few. They told me that the wharf is a very good spot for King fish and bonito and you are correct in assuming that I spied no evidence of this being true. Having spent a pleasant time on the wharf and in the museum, we got back on the bike and went looking for Kianinny Bay, which is the place from where the rowing boats were launched to go out to the steamers moored off shore. It was just a few kilometres away, nestled below the outlook at Chamberlains Point. The road down to the bay was very steep! The facilities there have been redone to cater for powerboat fishermen, with three ramps, stainless steel fittings and large tables for cleaning one's catch. In the photos you will see the rusted rails upon which the old boats were launched. It was very quiet. Apart from a flock of lazy/ totally unafraid seagulls, we had the place to ourselves for a while. That was about all we felt like and, truth be told, about all there was in Tathra. It is really a place for the beach, and the weather was not quite warm enough for that. So, back to our bush cabin at Kianinny. The complex is very bushy and it cover several hectares. As we pulled into the carport, I noticed a reasonably large goanna rushing up a tree. I parked swiftly and we quickly and quietly walked the ten metres or so to get a view of the lad. Have a look in the photos. Good looking specimen. We were later told that he has a three metre companion that strolls around the property, along with wombats, echidnas and a plague of wallabies, one of which we saw when we were leaving Kianinny. There is no general wifi there, and no cell phone unless you happen to be a Telstra customer. Neither of us is so, to get the Internet, we had to walk down to reception and park ourselves outside. This we did, and the owner, Jane, was unfailing friendly and helpful. During one of my tech breakdown moments she told me that her husband was restoring an old Kawasaki Mach III which he had imported from America. This motorcycle was violently quick, but it had appalling handling. There was a reason why it was dubbed 'the widow maker'. I received my first ever traffic ticket riding Wayne Dwyer's when I was eighteen. I didn't have a license, so the cop ticketed me and told Wayne, who was on the back, to take me home. The joke is that Wayne, who is younger than me by some months, also did not have a license! Anyhow, a photo has been posted for your viewing pleasure. Richard also owns a Triumph Sprint, parked outside the front of reception for the viewing pleasure of visitors like me :-) As dusk fell, we started preparing our evening meal. It was very tasty and was accompanied by a bottle of 2012 Barossa Shiraz. I can hardly believe that I have forgotten the name of it! Afterwards we had some Morris of Rutherglen Muscat, which is a seriously delicious fortified wine. I remember the name because 90% of it remains and I am looking at the bottle :-) That further lifted our already happy mood and we played a few songs on my iPhone before retiring to bed. When doing road trips, there is much to be recommended in taking a few days off here and there; and even more so when on a heavy motorcycle, two up with luggage. Fatigue is a big danger when driving and riding and the recovery afforded by taking it easy, apart from being pleasurable, is good road safety. As a motorcycle tragic, it is far too easy for me to be solely focussed on the ride. I get sufficient pleasure just from that. Indeed, it could be the sole purpose of the trip. Having Liz to consider has, apart from being most pleasant, been helpful in me keeping fatigue at bay. Tomorrow is Day 9. We will be back in the saddle with two more of Australia's Top 200 Motorcycle Rides in prospect. This morning we felt no need to rise early as the distance to Tathra was just a bit over two hours riding time. We left our room around 10.00am, paid our dues and went straight down to the Starfish restaurant for brunch. The waitress came alongside with the menus which we did not require and we repeated our order of yesterday. For posterity it is recorded that Liz had the Bircher summer muesli and I had the panini. With coffee, of course!
It was drizzling slightly as we left Batemans Bay (it had been doing so since we left the hotel) but it soon ceased and the road dried out. It was about 22C, perfect conditions for riding. We were soon crossing the mouth of the Wagonga Inlet and entering the reasonably substantial town of Narooma. I had spent a happy holiday there many years ago, but the socio economic demographic seems to have declined. We made a quick pit stop and then pressed on, making a detour a short distance south to the historic gold mining villages of Central Tilba and Tilba Tilba. In European or even American terms these would be modern villages, sort of; but as Australia is quite a young country, anything dating back to even the late 1800's is historic. The buildings are almost exclusively constructed of timber and are in a fairly good state of repair. The volunteers do a fantastic job of preserving our history. We took photos and looked at some of the items available for purchase. I was very taken with the cap made for a fox skin, complete with brush. I met with firm resistance, but from whom I will not say. On our way again, passing through the quaint coastal town of Bermagui, wanting to make up time now as the weather was closing in. Taking the coastal route rather than the faster main highway inland, the speed limit was 80kph/50mph, but the scenery, sometimes of the coastline; and the bends was far more pleasant. Just short of Tathra it started drizzling a bit more steadily and seconds after we got off the bike to check in at Kianinny Bush Cottages, we experienced a brief, but completely soaking, deluge. Drat. Wet bum riding up to our cottage. Happily we were upgraded, because we had asked for a hairdryer :-) Now my brother Bruce who lives in Sydney decided that he and his wife Anita would ride down to Tathra on their Moto Guzzi and spend one night with us. It was supposed to be Batemans Bay, but it didn't happen. So a short while after we had taken up residence they arrived as well. We decided to take up the dining option that offered a complimentary pick up and return service and so spent the evening at the Tathra Beach Bowling Club. The food was ok, meaning that none of went hungry. The wine was fair, but we had a pleasant time catching up and sharing a few good laughs. A pleasant day in all. This is my second attempt. My first, a masterpiece of written communication, did not upload and my web hosting service could not recover it. Day 6 is now three days ago. When one is on holiday , that is an eternity. I shall try and remember what we did. And what we didn't.
We emerged from bed at the indolent hour of 8.30am and after leisurely preparing our persons for public presentation ie going out to eat; we tootled down town on the bike looking for a suitable noshery where we could assuage our pangs of hunger and, in Liz's case, get her caffeine fix, without which her mood would not rise much higher than the soles of her shoes. The Starfish restaurant and deli was our second choice, and it was jackpot time. A table outside overlooking a small wharf and the Clyde Estuary, with the odd small boat passing by and a platoon of pelicans parading for our pleasure. (I was advised many years ago to avoid alliteration's artful aid, which advice itself was assonance; but sometimes it just slips out.) The food was also delicious. Before we paid the bill our venue for breakfast the next morning had been selected. Our post prandial promenade along the waterfront took us past about a dozen or so vintage Graham motorcars, which were mostly beautifully restored. We had happened upon the biennial meeting of the Australian Graham Club. I hope to load a video of these rather impressive vehicles. Beyond that a quick visit to a wharf where I, as always, asked the fishermen how they were doing. The standard answer seems to be that they have done well in previous days and they will do so again in the near future. I relate to that completely. The sun glare was getting to me so I decided to get some sun specs and decided that Liz should toss her el cheapos. Duly equipped for the coastal outdoors, we walked a little distance up the road to the Old Courthouse Museum, well put together by local volunteers. Aside from local history, they also had rooms that were, in effect, time capsules of things that were used in the home long ago. It was a little disconcerting that some of the things of my youth are now in museums!! What next to do on this, a day of scheduled rest and relaxation? Let's go to the beach! Back on the bike for a few minutes and as with breakfast, our second choice turned out to be the winner. Walking down to Maloney's Beach and seeing the sand, sea, waves and fishermen :-) was in itself relaxing. Liz took off her sandals and we wandered along the shore past some rocks to our own secluded spot. Liz looked for shells and I skipped flat stones across the water in between periods of just sitting on our derrières and talking about this and that. The tide came in and started turning and when we walked back up the beach it was ours alone. This, to me, is an essential part of every holiday. A quick ride back to our room before making our way back to town for dinner at the Little Restaurant and Bar. Well! Just incredible! Prices were well down on our experience the first night in Batemans Bay, and the quality of the food and overall experience well up. It was such an enjoyable evening and we will remember it fondly for a long time. Although I am a self-confessed motorcycling tragic, even I was happy for a day where laying down distance was not the order of the day. We did not smell roses, but the effect was much the same. A great day. We wish to give the Cedar Lodge Motel in Braidwood NSW a big tick for an immaculately presented room, with fine attention to detail that included Sheridan linen and complimentary Milo!
Breakfast was a short walk to Concept Café on the corner where the two ladies served us with great cheerfulness. We left there in a good mood to finish our packing for the 60 km ride to Batemans Bay. The road was surprisingly busy in both directions, but as it was quite wide that was no issue. More disappointing was the frequency of roadworks, requiring us to either travel at 40kph or, on occasion, stop and wait for the directive to proceed. When the road started the descent of the escarpment - and a very steep descent it was - overtaking lanes came along with acceptable frequency, permitting us to get past slower cars. One such lane had a perfectly constant radius bend, into which I leant the bike and held the throttle steady. When we straightened up I opened the intercom and asked Liz if she had enjoyed that bend as much as I had. She laughed merrily; and told me that her father had last night advised her by email that she 'should learn to love corners on motorcycles'. Very sound advice. (Thanks, Heinrich.) So, after after about an hour we pulled into our lodgings for the next two nights and were delighted to be given an early check in. Liz immediately organised some laundry and we fully unpacked and then relaxed for a while before walking the kilometre or so to the town centre. It was a sunny day with the odd cloud in the sky and about 24C, just perfect for a stroll. Batemans Bay is very popular, being an hour and a half from Canberra. It has experienced a lot of recent development so that much of the original housing stock has been demolished. Consequently the town does not have much atmosphere, but it is not entirely unattractive. After buying some emery boards for Liz (first aid) I decided I had to get some sunglasses against the glare. While at it, I suggested to Liz she replace the el-cheapos she was wearing. Thus re-equipped, we found a suitable deli for lunch and then decided to book tickets to the movie 'The Lady in the Van' showing at 3:30. We walked back to the hotel and lazed around before getting on the bike and going back to watch what I decided was a rather weird movie. After that we took the bike for a spin more or less along the foreshore, noting there is not much by way of beach here. We will look again tomorrow. We decided to eat in the restaurant on the premises and upon seeing the prices, regretted it. The prices were 20% up on Toorak's best offering. After the meal, which was pleasant, we still thought it was over priced. The wine, 2013 Brand's Laira Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon was the best value for money and went down well. On leaving, we stopped and spoke to an English couple. Martin Townsend is a competitive marksman in the 7.62 NATO calibre rifle ie Full Bore. More than that, he is captain of the British team and a respected wind coach. He hits the target at up to 1,500 yards. That is impressive! But they also last week beat us (again) for the Woomera Trophy, which was held in Tasmania. Tomorrow we hope to walk on the beach and I might even disport myself in the waves, if there are any suitable for that purpose. Bruce and Anita have said they are coming down from Sydney so we are likely to at least have dinner with them. The title could be seen as a little odd, because apart from a rough route, nothing has really been planned at all.
Last night I was thinking that we might spend two nights in Jindabyne but when Liz did not seem keen I of course started to think about the route and stop for the next day. Now Canberra is just to the west of the approximate point where I intended to turn for the coast. Knowing that Liz had been to Canberra a few times on business and exclusively for that purpose, I asked her if she wanted to go there and play the tourist. I immediately received an affirmative response and the diversion was settled. Breakfast, included in the price of the room, was mainly cold, like the weather outside. We rugged up a little but were still a bit disappointed to emerge from the parking garage into light rain. However, it was very light and at speed the windshield was blowing most of it past me. Handlebar heaters were on and with straightish, wide roads we took a little over two hours to get into the public parking garage beneath Parliament House. Quickly upstairs and through security, we booked our guided tour for midday and retired to the cafeteria for coffee. It was interesting speculating about all the people in there. Some appeared to be young, keen political advisers, some were clearly lobbyists and others could well have been petitioners. Despite myself, I felt quite impressed at being at the seat of power. After our tour which was fairly interesting, we were left to our own devices. That meant, in the first instance, lunch; and in the second, Question Time in the Senate chamber. Lunch was was actually very good, but the behaviour of the Opposition Labor senators juvenile, petty and generally atrocious. Liz took quite an interest, more in the who than the what, but having an old interest in politics, that was not surprising. But half an hour with those turkeys was plenty and we exited to see if we could get into the Lower House, but without success. Booking is advised. After taking plenty of photos outside we rode down to the Vietnam War Memorial. This war was one that was raging at the time of my own military service and so I have always felt a connection to things related thereto. The memorials always choke me up a bit. They were so young when they died and, like me, they were without choice in being there. A short distance up the avenue is the Australian National War Memorial. It is iconic in the Australian national consciousness, with the ANZAC legend having been born out of the disaster that was Gallipolli. Obviously it tells the story of its conflicts from the Australian and Allied perspective and it is done exceptionally well, but I have felt for a long time now that the effluxion of time should have brought about a maturity that could tell the story from the perspectives of all protagonists. That, I believe, would be more likely to demonstrate the sadness of war and why we should strive hard to avoid it. However, I also do believe that sometimes war is necessary. Our visit concluded just before 17h00 and we decided to stay and watch the Last Post ceremony which takes place at closing every day. After the National Anthem a lone piper played the lament "Flowers of the Forest", a most moving piece of music, during which wreaths were laid. The Ode, from the poem For the Fallen, by Lawrence Binyon, which so many of us know by heart, was then recited "They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old; Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We shall remember them." Finally, a bugler sounded The Last Post and we all left there in a reflective mood. Time to make tracks for Braidwood, where we had booked a room for the night and a little over an hour later, having ridden the last few miles in light rain, we pulled into the driveway. Dinner was taken in the Family Bistro of the Royal Mail Hotel where we just marvelled at the iridescent tablecloths! Tomorrow will be a very short ride to Batemans Bay where we will spend two nights and take it easy. The cabin at Tumbarumba Caravan Park was inexpensive in every way. Dinner at the Tumbarumba Hotel should have been inexpensive, but wasn't. However the 'Pinot Griss' from the barman was worth something. We do, however, give a thumbs up to the folk and the fare at the Tumbarumba Bakery.
We must also give some brownie points to the receptionist lass at the caravan park who lent her hairdryer to Liz. Such a ready smile she had, too. Impossible not to like her. We dawdled out of Tumbarumba (glad I don't have to type that anymore) just before ten and then again dawdled up the road towards Batlow. Quite pretty, but not special; and the road was rather mundane as well. Just short of Batlow I saw a sign to the old road so I turned around and took the road less travelled. Now that was a good move. The scenery picked up tremendously, with orchards in the valleys between the hills. The road was narrow so I just went slowly so we could enjoy the views. I didn't have great clarity as to where the road was taking us, but thought perhaps Tumut (we were well past Batlow by then) although I was quite relaxed. We were after all on holiday. At a T junction a sign pointed right to Adelong. Only right. Ok, Adelong it is. Hmm. Here's another T junction. Left to Adelong, right to Tumut. Easy choice. When we arrived in Tumut at 11.30. I topped up the tank and suggested to Liz that we should walk around the town and then have lunch. The other option was lunch in Cabramurra. Tumut won and we enjoyed our stroll around the small town before being directed by a lass to the Terrace Café where we enjoyed our smashed avocados with salad (again). A few photos later we returned to the bike and set course for the Snowy Mountains, the home of Australia's first hydroelectric scheme and some famous scenery and motorcycling roads. It took a while to make it to the base of the mountains, but when we got there the road rose very steeply, so quickly that my ears popped! There were bends, curves and more bends. I was delighted, thinking that for a change my tyres were wearing all along the tread, not just the crown. That's the Scot in me :-) Here and there lookouts have been constructed and there were some spectacular views to be enjoyed. These were well received by us as opportunities to rest. Rolling a heavy motorcycle which has two adults and all their luggage through all those corners does take some effort! Black Perry lookout was the first of several, and photos will appear in the Images tab now that I think I have worked out how to upload them. A distinct benefit of today's ride was that we were consistently travelling between 1,100 and 1,500 metres above sea level. The consequence of this was temperatures from 23 to 26C, considerably more pleasant than the 34/35 at lower elevations. Cabramurra is a high altitude village, built to house the folk who constructed the Snowy Mountains Hydroelectric Scheme. It is still a company town and there is not much there for the tourist. We did however meet two other BMW riders and we enjoyed exchanging views and information. By then our minds were turning to where we might sleep. The next town, Khancoban, has a caravan park. After last night, it did not even get considered. That left Thredbo and Jindabyne to think about. Back on the road again, this time with a lot more traffic approaching us, which was not too particular about staying on their side of the unmarked road. We got a few frights. Despite the beauty of the surroundings and the many bends, it was rather nerve wracking. Stopping at Scammell's Lookout, I had a power nap and listened to Liz grumbling gently about being still so far from Jindabyne. I was very understanding as I myself was feeling rather bushed and stressed. So I knuckled down to the task of getting the job done as quickly and safely as I could. Past Thredbo the road straightened and widened. It was well marked and the speed limit was 100. The last thirty k's into Jindabyne just flew and we quickly found a room with a view of the lake. Chinese dinner with a gin and tonic for Liz, I settled for a beer. If the wine list offered Chardonary and Semillion, with the only red being 'red', I wasn't game to take a chance. A bit over 300 kms for the day, but it felt tougher than yesterday. Let's see what we decide to do tomorrow. This is late as I had a technical problem.
Was yesterday's breakfast stately? In a word, no. A magnificent dining room (should have taken a photo) but there was dust under the tables and the table cloth had not been ironed. The breakfast itself was very good. When we showered, we discovered towels that reminded one of sand paper. Our host had not yet discovered fabric softener. Joseph is a very pleasant fellow, very engaging and a reasonable amateur winemaker as well, but I think the problem is that he is doing it all by himself. Never going to work. The place, done up as it should be, could charge who knows? $800 a night? So we started a little later than we should because as we were about to take off one of the other guests stopped for a chat. He and his wife were hiking in the area. The road to Whitfield was of course now very familiar to us and the curves and corners were welcomed as old friends. I particularly remembered there were a number of S bend combinations and thoroughly enjoyed the cadences of sweeping through them. Good time was made to Whitfield, where we enquired of a local if there was a short cut to Bright. The answer was, no, but there was a scenic route and one not so scenic, both the same distance. De jávu. Liz heard that 'scenic' meant gravel road. Decision made, we made good time up through the vineyards and farms of the King Valley. I have to to comment at this juncture that I have been very disappointed with the route planning function of my very expensive Garmin GPS. Perhaps I have not mastered it. Perhaps. I turned off those routes and relied on the built in functionality. It was getting warm, sitting at 34C, but travelling at a steady 110 kph kept it fairly comfortable. We decided to pass through the the very pretty town of Myrtleford in favour of stopping in the larger town of Bright, where we would have lunch. At 12:15 we pulled into town, I mean a traffic jam! Busy is the word. Cars, bikes, bicycles, people. We snuck around the back streets to the other end, parked at Café Velo (avoid, unless you like buy and fry) and walked to the Main Street where we enjoyed smashed avocado with Dukka on toast at Food Wine Friends (recommended) Part of the reason for the crowds was a meeting of a classic car club. I hope to post some photos of those immaculate beauties. Back on the bike, heading for the Tawonga Gap. This is quite well known for its curves, but they are quite tight, so it is a slow traverse. However, one is rewarded towards the top by a stunning view. Once over the descent the other side we turned north for a distance before east along the Murray Valley Highway towards Tallangatta. This is also one of Australia's Top 200 rides, for its scenery and higher speed bends. It delivered both, although the stretch of Lake Hume alongside the road was dry. We stopped in Tallangatta, but having enquired ahead, did not look for accommodation as it was also full. We relaxed in a very pleasant park where I had a power nap. (I should have mentioned Joseph's awful mattress). Refreshed, it was east again until the Granya Gap road, once again a pretty decent road for the motorcyclist. It was quite short and we were then travelling quite swiftly to reach our beds for the night in Tumbarumba. The countryside is very scenic, but rather dry, and it was also now 36C. We passed by Jingellic, which is very small; and twenty minutes later reached our destination. The town is quite spread out and has a decent looking main street but, as we discovered later, fine food and wine are strangers in this place. Ok, my turn in the shower and then we will try breakfast in the bakery. Today we will first go north to Batlow and Tumut before tracking south via Cabramurra and Khancoban to perhaps Kosiuszcko, Australia's highest ummmm mountain. Maybe 6,000 feet? I will check and let you know. John V, no food vans yet. (For those who wish to read earlier pages, please click on the 'Previous' link below.) |
AuthorDuncan & Liz are keen travellers, doing less than they would like but appreciating what opportunities present. Duncan loves his motorcycle and Liz loves it more at the end of a trip! ArchivesCategories |