South Gippy 2

A zoom in on the Inverloch sandbar. It looks so temporary, but I expect it is centuries old. 

From the Environmental Centre we drove on to Flat Rocks, an area where many dinosaur fossils have been found. While I was once quite familiar with South Gippsland, neither I nor my brother can remember visiting Flat Rocks. I don't think I need to explain the name. There were steps down to the beach, more than a few, so I stayed up top. A P&K photo. I could see the people on the rocks from above.

This photo is and odd one out, taken by P&K. I think they went out for a walk the first night.

We then drove on to Eagles Nest. I saw the nest from a distance while in the car, but again steps down to the beach. I walked half way down, but stopped and left the lads to continue and I climbed the steps back up to the carpark. This is an impressive headland, looking to the east.

And I think this is what is known at Eagles Nest.

I am not sure where these P&K photos were taken. 

We were back for cheese and nibbles with family by 3pm. That night we all dined at the Inlet Hotel where P&K and myself bought the meat platter, which had far too much meat for a platter, and so was served on a cake stand, well similar.

P&K had been to the games room the night before and had some tokens to use. They took some of the greats to the play room, probably paid for more tokens, and some kiddies won and picked up stuffed toys. 

Next morning at 8.00 an armada of greats appeared at our cabin to see P&K. They were still asleep. Come back later guys. Oldest great nephew, 5?, returned on his bicycle and he and Kosov had good fun together by racing against each other and generally having fun. All the greats love Phyllis and Kosov, as they are fun and energetic, unlike me.

I had coffee with Hippie Niece, her partner and their four combined children, and they were away. 

At the suggestion of Bone Doctor, my sister's wife, we journeyed home via a steep hilly and twisting road to Korumburra and then the South Gippsland Highway. Gippsland's rolling hills were just beautiful. 

Phyllis

What I have I learnt about Phyllis over the eighteen months he has lived with me, is he is incredibly smart.

A few examples:

While checking into the caravan park at the weekend, I was given the usual sheet of paper with a map and the route to our cabin highlighted, and another with the Wi-Fi password and some other information, including the six digit code plus hash for the car boom barrier to enter and exist the park. The first time we exited the park, I realised we had forgotten the paper with the written code. It's ok Andrew, I remember the code. What? I read the code out to him when we entered and there was nothing memorable about the code.

Bone Doctor suggested we take the scenic route home, via her old home town, and it would only take a few minutes longer. It was good choice to travel via the twisting road, and Phyllis drove without fault at a speed like an experienced driver. I only opened my gob once when near home on the motorway and I told him he was too close to the car in front. 

When he moved here, he did not know how to cook. With the assistance of the internet and his mother, plus a little advice from he who professes to not know how to cook, he quickly picked it all up and became a competent cook, better, like Ray, an instinctive cook. As I have told him though, not everything needs to be spiced up. Steamed broccoli alone is delicious, as are many vegetables. Cauliflower and brussels sprouts are excluded.

He and Kosov are bilingual, Kosov having improved his English a lot since he moved in to my home. Between them, they mostly speak their own language but at times switch to English.  I don't dumb down the way I speak when talking to them. 

I won't say Phyllis is manipulative, but he could be if not guided by a firm yes or no. By instinct I tend to say no, and then think about it, and maybe say yes later. He has worked out that if I say no, he just needs to wait for me digest what he has asked or suggested. 

Whatever, they are both agreeable and fun guys and I am fortunate to have them in my life. 

To South Gippy

Gippy being Gippsland, the south eastern area of my state, Victoria. Gippsland covers a huge area, say from 60/35 south east of Melbourne to the southernmost east coast, to its far eastern point, into the Great Dividing Range to the north. 

To celebrate Ex Sis in Law's birthday and Mother's Day, family all stayed for two nights in Inverloch, occupying  six cabins. It was a wonderful time away...mostly.

With Phyllis at the wheel, we drove via Pakenham to pick up ABI Brother, then stopped off at Grantville for food and coffee. Phyllis had failed to fill the car with petrol, so there was another stop for fuel, whereby he paid a higher price than he would have in Melbourne. I wanted to stop off at Kilcunda to see the disused railway timber trestle bridge, but I was ill prepared and it flashed past. No matter, I said. We can see it on the way home. That wasn't to be.

I had taken a three bedroom cabin, with a room for myself, another for ABI Brother and one for Phyllis and Kosov.

The cabin was well equipped and super clean. This is looking towards Phyllis' and Kesav's bedroom, with the bathroom and toilet on the left and my and brother's bedrooms to the right. I had a king sized bed, tv and fan, while they had bunk beds.  

My only complaint was the shower over the bath, awkward to get into and the bath very slippery. There wasn't any kind of bathmat, and it is too late to go to the office once you are under the shower to ask for a bathmat. For my second shower, I was just super careful after my first shower experience. This will be noted at Trip Advisor when I write my review. 

Aside from the minor complaint, it is a terrific holiday park, with an indoor heated pool, an area of water features to surprise and soak children, the barbeque and kitchen with a large air conditioned public eating area. A mini golf area, and a games room. Security is very strong. I believe the park was full for the nights we stayed there. While the weather was cool, it was generally dry and aside from it being Mother's Day on the Sunday, there wasn't any other reason for the park being full than it is very popular.                                             

In the distance you can see the sand bar that protects the Inverloch beach from heavy seas. 

But erosion is a huge problem. The surf life saving building collapsed and was rebuilt higher up the beach, and now it under threat again, as is the beach side road. 

 

We visited the local shops after checking into our digs, then the nearby beach. That evening a family barbeque was held in the communal park kitchen and barbeque area. There were twelve children under twelve and about the same number of adults.

At some point Phyllis had made up a pot of some kind of curry, and he and Kosov ate some late that night, perhaps not being terribly satisfied by the Aussie style barbeque. True, the barbeque was quite basic.

The next morning we were all up early enough, and  accidently met up at a nearby cafe for coffee and a bite to eat with some family members. ABI brother had gone for a walk, later working out he had walked to the shops to put on his horse racing bets. We spotted him from the cafe as he walked back and asked if he would like to join us to see some sights, and he agreed. 

The first stop was Bunurong Environment Centre, which had a few things to see, but then wow, for a gold coin donation, there was the shell display, thousands of shells. It was amazing.

This shell castle is over 100 years old.

A bench had shells you could pick up and handle. I put one likely looking shell to my ear and I couldn't hear the sea, but I could hear the wind at the sea. 

We went on to a few more places, details in the next post. 

Away and some nostalgia

I am away again, this time with Phyllis and Kosov. HH assures me she can manage to feed Jass in our absence. 

Our weather has turned from temperatures last week of low to mid 20s/70-80 to today as I type 13/55. Isn't that just great when you are going away although it will be a few degrees warmer for the next few days.

The task of sorting things out on my computer goes on. It is quite a task when there is around thirty years of history, much of which was filed and forgotten about. I have surprised myself with odds and sods I've found floating around. 

I came across a link to a US gay guy's website I used to read way back in the nineties, and to my surprise, the website still works. It ran from 1996 until 2000. Justin would have been twenty years old then.  If you'd like to take a look,

Justin's Koool Page

He started a new site in 2001 and it continued until 2003. The final entry mentions he is 27, and is using crutches to get around. Justin would now be fifty years old. Hmm, the whiff of nostalgia is very strong.

Justin's Life

Later:  I've realised his real name is on his website, Justin Clouse. I will turn to stalker mode....that wasn't hard. He's on all the social media sites, and the only other Justin Clouse is a dead soldier. 

The DVs

Some local Malaysians, including my Malaysian friend,  refer to the covered over Muslim women as DVs, Darth Vaders.

I've made no bones about my dislike of people who cover their faces. Human connections rely on seeing faces, and to cover faces diminishes communication.

Whether Muslim women are forced to do this, I think the jury is out. Some will be, some won't be, and some will feel pressure. In Malaysia at our hotel breakfast buffet, we saw some in the full black garb, with faces covers and gauze over the eye slits. They had to lift the black flap in front of their faces to eat, and it looked very awkward. 

But I won't discriminate. I dislike all overt religious behaviour. Most of the US MAGA are probably Christians who attend church every Sunday. 

There are number of Australian women with children who have been trapped in the Middle East for years. They were married to Middle Eastern terrorists and willingly went to the Middle East to support their husbands who were committing terrorist acts. 

Well, they have finally found passage back to Australia and will be allowed in as they are citizens or permanent residents of Australia. Yet, they went to the Middle East to support extremist fighters who were members of prohibited organisation,  that was against everything Australia stands for.

They are Australian citizens and must be let in, and I hate that but respect their right. Their children may well go into care to be deradicalised, and perhaps the women themselves. Some will be arrested at the airport for possible criminal actions. I can hear their pleas now, my husband forced me, I had to support my husband. 

They had a gold standard of being an citizen of Australia and went off to fight for a Middle Eastern terrorist organisation, and now return to the comfort of Australia and will receive good medical care at no cost, receive social security payments, child benefit allowances etc etc. I say, fuck 'em all. 

Photo of the scary from The Age.

Catch Up

My neighbour HH's foot is healing much slower than she expected. She never asks until I offer, which I do almost daily, if she wants anything at the shops, as she can't drive and can't really walk, only hobble around. Last Thursday she asked for a loaf of Abbott's wholemeal bread when I went out shopping.

Yesterday she asked if I could get her a prescription medication, plus painkillers. 

Late that afternoon Phyllis cooked her a meal of spicy air fried chicken, a dressed salad and a fried egg, and served it to her hot at her dining table. She said it was the first proper sit down meal she'd had for two weeks.

Gratuitous photo of Jass as she waited for an answer to her question, did we think she is pretty.

Andrew, said Sister's wife, while I know you don't wear tee shirts, I couldn't resist buying this for you. Bone Doctor was right about me wearing tee shirts but I do like this one featuring different Melbourne tram models. Kosov wears it well. I've told him he must hand wash it.

Saturday morning I met up with my Sydney friend Victor for brunch before he went to see a local performance. He was only in Melbourne for the day, and jetted home later that day. 

Once home, we three went off to the big green shed to buy cat grass, grass for cats to eat. It was absurdly expensive for a tray of a bit of grass, but we bought a tray. So far, Jass has shown interest but not eaten any.  

Saturday night we three met up with a couple of my friends, the Fijian Indian heritage guy and his Hong Kong born partner at a Pakistani restaurant in St Kilda. It was very popular with South Asian community and locals. It was quite good, and I wanted to take the very handsome waiter home with me. Noooo, Ondrrrrewww. You cannot, I was told. This catch up was to celebrate Phyllis' 23rd birthday. 

Come the day, Sunday, gifts were unwrapped, one wrapped by about 20 metres of cling wrap, and gifts spread all over the place.

I had said ok to visitors Sunday afternoon to help Phyllis celebrate his birthday. I think five people came. I left them alone, taking with me half a meals on wheels sandwich, a strange Asian small cake and a couple of chocolates. At Albert Park Beach I sat on the bench where Ray and I so often sat during Covid lockdown and consumed my food with a takeaway coffee.

Sitting on my own on a bench, eating and and drinking my coffee as I stared out to sea and a stormy sky, just as old people do.

I went on to Port Melbourne shops to buy something, then to the Mazda car dealer to look at a a new car, but it was closed. I did walk around looking at cars. I found my way to Westgate Park to look at the salt water lake and lean back my car seat to untenion my body. 

I returned home while the afternoon party was in full swing with all guests sitting at the dining table consuming a feast. I went to my bedroom to play on my tablet while fun went on until I was called out for the birthday cake. Last year Phyllis bought Kosov a sword online. So much for our strict weapons laws. 

The cake was cut with the sword, but later divided by a proper knife, and at my suggestion, served by a cake slide, on side plates, with a dessert forks and serviettes.  

Monday Mural

Sami and others post Monday Mural photos.

This is an exciting new mural, in Bowen Crescent less than 200 metres from my garage gate. It was painted by Pete CTO and features Louisa Briggs, who was an Aboriginal matriarch of the Boonwurrung people and the first Aboriginal woman to become a paid midwife. Louisa died in 1925. Such a shame that while her heritage in this country will go back thousands of years, she was not an Australian citizen.