The weekend visit to Daylesford 2

Mount Franklin is a popular brand of bottled water in Australia, well Victoria at least. Apparently the real Mount Franklin does supply some spring water to the bottlers, probably owned by the giant Coca Cola Amatil. 

"Andrew, do we have the time to visit Mount Franklin?" "If you don't muck around, yes. We do have a train to catch." I had ordered the motel breakfast for $10, consisting of cereal, inadequate light milk and toast with butter and spreads, with me toasting the bread to make the toast. I had brought some chopped fruit and psyllium husks to add to the cereal. 

It was a lovely twenty minute drive to Mount Franklin, with such pretty scenery. There was nothing to see there that I know of but it is a popular camping ground. Camping?? Quell Horreur. 

We descended down to the carpark shared by those travelling on the vintage train and those attending the adjacent Sunday market. It took a little time to find a parking space but I thought we were there in plenty of time, fifteen minutes before departure. This three wheeler was parked as we walked to the station.

How did the station staff know my name? Now I surmise because I was the last person who had booked and arrived. The train was almost full and the seats weren't reserved.

 

Oh, what a beauty. A Walker Rail Motor, mostly used on country branch lines, since closed after the Beeching Report rationalisation of Victorian railways in the sixties and seventies. The Walker is two passenger carriages, in this case one first class and one second class, with another centre non passenger carriage where the two diesel motors and associated workings are located. There was little intrusion into the passenger carriages by engine noise as we climbed from an elevation of 616 metres to Bullarto at 735 metres, a quite steep rise of 1 in 50. Bullarto is the highest operating railway station in the state. 

A travel poster at the Bullarto Station. 

With a ten minute turn around at Bullarto, it was back to Daylesford, making it a perfect one hour trip. We only had two seats for three people, so Phyllis sat on Kosov's legs for the whole trip. 

We found some food at the Sunday market to fortify ourselves for the journey home, with Kosov driving to the motorway and then Phyllis for the rest to home. Some more luscious scenery along the way.

The weekend visit to Daylesford 1

Phyllis had nails on for his weekend away. I knew he had painted himself with some brush on gold. It isn't showing in the original photo but seems to be here.  For the 90 minute trip Kesav with his L plates displayed drove to our first stop, for lunch at a service centre Hungry Jacks, Burger King in other countries I think.

 

An Indian family was leaving their car next to where we parked. Phyllis got back into the car and drove to the petrol pumps to pump some liquid gold into Perl, while Kosov and I went in and ordered food. Kosov ordered by touch screen, I went to the counter and ordered. Haha, my food was ready first.

There was a side area to sit, and I could hear some loudish children there. I noticed the aforementioned Indian family sat in the other space near the front. Look, I would have sat in that area regardless but I did engineer things a little for my own amusement by deliberately sitting at the table next to the Indian family. Phyliss returned from topping up Perl's tank and none of the family took any notice of Phyllis at his girliest best except for one, the granny. She stared at Phyllis with malevolent eyes. My mission achieved.

I drove up the big hills to see how my new car performed. With cruise control set, it kept perfect speed at 110/70 and she used the gears sparingly. I turned on the self steering for a brief time, and while it does work well, I really don't like it. Once off the motorway, I let Phyllis drive the potholed country road to Daylesford.

Looking down on the township.

King of the castle, who looks so much better with short hair.

No idea what the car brand is, but it is rather cute. 

We ascended this lookout tower, only to stare into tree branches and leaves. Phyllis and Kosov at the base looking for the fingernail Phyllis dropped from the top of the tower.

The lads suggested this place for dinner and it was fine. 

There are many gay people living in Daylesford, and perhaps this place is owned by gay women. 

Time for the loo, but which door? I guessed wrongly of course. Eventually I did find the very secretive gender sign. 

This cistern is a bit flash, with clear writing on which button to use, instead of symbols that often can't be instantly worked out. But isn't half normally on the left?

At our digs this camellia was blooming. We had missed the best of the flowering spring trees by a week or so. 

I think this is a Prunus Elvins across the road. What is its normal name? Flowering plum, I think.

Almost next to the house where the tree is, was a house up for sale. It looked nice. I investigated later.

Very nice indeed. I'll do a bit of a Bob here, but without his style. I looked up the house and here is a link. Remember I mentioned a lot of gay people live in the area? When the gays move in and make an area lively, it becomes a desirable place to live and property prices rise, as does accommodation I might add. Daylesford had an annual gay pride festival called Chill Out although the website says it is much more than that. The price of this three bedroom home with only one bathroom is AU$1,125 million, US$790,000, UK£600,000, €693.000. That's a lot for a country property, over 90 minutes from Melbourne and doesn't have a train service.

If you click on the earlier link and then the first photo you see, it will take you to full sized photos plus a video and a floor plan. It just an old man's ten minute walk to the shops, but the road is quite busy, used by some trucks.  

Some original features have been retained but it is all very white and looks rather 'done up' for sale. Nowadays, the lack of an ensuite for the master bedroom is big drawback, so it wouldn't be for me, but still, it's quite a nice house with lots of street appeal. 

The Bellarine Pt 2

The walkway to the door of my flat was a little treacherous in the very dark of the night, as the sensor lights were a bit slow to illuminate the path and approach.

The one bedroom flat was comfortable enough and even came with a washing machine.

Bone Doctor thought but didn't say anything at the time about the step up to the bedroom and that I might trip. It wasn't the step up that got me, it was the step down in the morning before it was light. I certainly stepped down very heavily. Only a fool will walk around in a strange place without turning on lights.

The party was from 4pm until 9pm. I arrived purposely late but in time to see the sun setting over Swan Lake. 

The party had a nautical theme. One woman came as Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island, with her hair pulled to each side of her head and a floaty around her middle with SS Minnow written around the semi circle. There were some very creative outfits. Mine consisted of a cap, making me look like an old 'salty'. I faked the old part quite easily.

Bone Doctor checked with the Commodore and she was allowed to fly the Jolly Roger on the flagpole. There was only one rule, that no flag could fly above the Australian flag.

I was distracted and missed the sun disappearing below the horizon. It was quite beautiful. 

Paella chefs had been hired who came with their own equipment and set up on the decking and produced two very large paellas, one seafood and one vegetarian, enough to feed fifty guests.

Next morning before checkout, I walked the short distance to the beach. The waves often crash over the sea walls, depositing sand when they do. I was looking toward the point and Point Lonsdale Village.

I  was meeting Sister and Bone Doctor for coffee next morning at the recently renovated Queenscliff Hotel. We sat on the verandah with a slight breeze blowing. The weather for the three days I was there could not have been better for what is still winter. 

I did take a look inside and it is fantastic, with all kinds of area to drink and eat off the main hallway, leading to an atrium at the rear. Accommodation is offered too, but I will guess it would not be cheap. 

We parted ways and I steered Perl for home, or rather she mostly steered herself.

The Bellarine Pt 1

Sister said I could stay at her place, and they have a room and a nice double bed, but I like my own space, so I booked a flat for two nights at a reasonable price for a one bedroom flat the Friday and Saturday nights. Since then, I've taken a wee blog break, but I've read all of you wrote.

The occasion was to attend a party for Bone Doctor's 50th birthday, sensibly timed for 4pm to 9pm for seniors. The venue was the same boathouse where Jo's 18th birthday was held in July last year, when I had the company of Phyllis and Kosov.

I didn't do much upon my arrival on Friday afternoon, aside from walking the few minutes to the beach. The Rip is the narrow entrance to Port Phillip, and ships must have pilots to enter and depart.

 

I offered to take the trio out for dinner on the Friday night as a gift for Bone Doctor's birthday and Sister chose a rather nice Italian restaurant. Funnily, it was in a Victorian era building where Ray and I stayed when we attended Bone Doctor's 40th birthday. I understand the whole building has been renovated, and that's just as well as where we stayed was rather shabby.

Four people, the cost will be about $80, with my mind firmly back in the 1990s. A bottle of decent wine bumped up the price, as did Jo's cocktail and my Frangelico affogato. We ate well, with me having a serve of bruschetta and my main being mussels in a rich tomato sauce, with bread of course. $270 later... I just thought of all the money I've saved by not going out for dinner with Ray once a week. Whatever, it was a lovely meal and such a nice evening. 

We drove to a carpark to see the moon. It didn't disappoint.

I can't remember why, but Sister and Jo dropped me and Bone Doctor back at my flat, and we sampled Bone Doctor's Japanese whisky she'd brought along, which was nice enough, but we then drank some of my Scotch. We talked about everything and nothing, and as the English expression goes, we sorted out the world. She set off for home on foot.

Next morning we all met up for brunch in Point Lonsdale village, with me driving the short distance in my car. I had some rather nice fruit toast with Vegemite, much to the surprise of the foreign born lass when I ordered. She said Vegemite was ok, but she'd never heard of it on fruit toast. I can assure you, it works well, if you like Vegemite. This was the view from across the road from where we brunched.

We went our separate ways and I drove to St Leonards, where I stopped off to watch boats being launched from the boat ramp. It was a very good four boat ramp launching place, but sadly I did not see any boat ramp disasters to film and make me go viral. Some old dude with a heavy foreign accent in a motorised wheel chair engaged me in unwanted conversation. One must be kind to the elderly who want to chat. 

I clung to the coastal road as I passed through Indented Heads and stopped in Portarlington. There were so many nice houses along the way, mostly two storey to take advantage of sea views, with huge balconies. This was a slam on the brakes moment to get out and take this photo, I think at Indented Heads. 

I parked in Portarlington, happily right near a great mural. The old hotel looks wonderful.

I returned to my flat in the afternoon, with this lush and perhaps a little overgrown garden outside my door. The temperature was low, but with sunshine, it felt warmer.

 

I walked to the cemetery across the road. Real estate agents would call it 'sea views' from the top of the cemetery hill. I would call them 'sea glimpses'. The wrought iron gates are wonderful. The supporting pillars, rather plain. 

Cemeteries are always interesting, and this was not an exception. A nice rotunda is a great facility to hold celebrations of deaths.

 

An eighteen year old who died, maybe a lifesaver with the statue indicating a connection. 

 

This grave for a nineteen year old with an engraved motorcycle might indicate Gavin died in a motorcycle accident. 

One month old, and what a lovely site to remember her.

Ruben, one week old, with an eye catching grave.

This 1800s grave was really sad. Three children died at a young age and are interred with their mother, then later with their father. Plagues or wars?

A war memorial at the top of the hill in the most prestigious location within the cemetery, at the top of the hill with the aforesaid sea glimpses.

There was a bush area sprinkled with memorial plaques.

Men are capable of great love, for their dogs at least, and Frank loved his Missy.

With a grave holding multiple people my mind drifted to would I ever see as gay couple buried together? Burials are rare now, so it is most unlikely. But look what I came across! Phillipa who died thirty years ago, with mention of her partner Diana.

 Land has been cleared at the back of cemetery, I guess to add more room for plaques. 

Finally, this is where I am staying, in a three storey building, with a weird layout. There is a modern two storey house behind where I was staying on ground level of this three storey building. Somewhere within what all that seems modern, perhaps 1960s chimneys, poke upward.