The sads

I had a case of the sads yesterday. At times I wonder if I should have had a couple of sessions of grief counselling in  the months following Ray's death. Mostly I am fine, but sometimes things trigger me to have a sad day, and it should not be the day after a great birthday.

This morning it was after reading JayCee's post about receiving a new passport. You'll have to introduce yourself to her if you don't already read her blog. Her post spurred me to take a look at Ray's passports. Here is a photo of his English passports, correctly called United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. 

The first two have a very solid hard cardboard cover, like a hardback book. He left Australia twice before he became an Australian citizen, once to England with a Singapore stopover and once to Bali in Indonesia, so there are stamps from those various countries, along with the important permission to return to Australia stamps, even though he was permanent resident.

Once he became an Australian citizen, that was no longer necessary. With hindsight, what a waste of money the last passport was, not used having arrived in February a few months before he died. Note the change to the European Union after the hardcover passports,  and then the disappearance of Europe post Brexit.  

And here are his Australian passports. They look progressively more modern, with the third one dabbling with a silver coat of arms, but then returning to gold in the last. You may wonder about why the need for both? While there were advantages to him by using his English passport, the advantage disappeared as he had to wait for me with my Australian passport at any point we crossed secure borders. 

He was cross questioned at Belgium's Midi Station after we arrived by Thalys from Amsterdam and changed to Eurostar for London. He was asked why he was travelling on an Australian passport when he had an English one (the immigration person knew he had an English passport). He explained it was because of me using my Australian passport and there being no advantage, and then the official asked why we weren't together. I don't remember why we weren't, and I've no idea why it might have been a concern. Ray was not my keeper. 

The reason he kept his English passport was that he could return to England to live if he wanted, and by default, I could live there too. We did even think about it a couple of times, but my family being here made it a non starter.

So yes, his optimism in February 2024 to get a new ten year English passport and dying two months later made me feel sad.

But there was more. I don't think it was until the 1980s where we first saw the English tv series 7Up in Australia, and I expect soon after we would have seen 14Up. Every seven years we would tune in to watch the next in the series and this year it was time for 70Up. I thought it was excellent, although I've yet to watch the second part. In its early days, questions were asked and presentation decisions were made that now would not pass the sniff test, and 70Up seemed to recognise this. The show is quite sad at times.

Even if you've never seen the former episodes, and they are available to see in Australia, just watching 70Up includes enough of the older series for it to all make sense. In Australia you can see the programme at SBS On Demand, but I think just watching 70Up is enough. Apparently there won't be a 77Up, which is a shame, and who knows if I will live to my mid seventies. Ray did, but no longer. We would have enjoyed watching 70Up together very much.  

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. 

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. 

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. 

Castlemaine 4

I had a train to catch, a return journey on the Goldfields Railway. Naturally as a person of my social standing, I had booked a first class train ticket. I ate some cereal in my motel room, checked out at 10.00 and drove the five minutes to railway station. I was very early but that meant I had time to find a nearby parking space, ascertain that the train left from Platform 3 and I could access it via a subway and an upward ramp. No lift!

At Platform 1 was a coffee kiosk, and the coffee made by an old bloke* was better than I expected. I sat on a nicely shaded seat outside the station and drank my coffee before making my way to Platform 3 where my ticket was checked and I was told to head to the rear of the platform where there was a red carpeted ramp to board the train. There was much manoeuvring of the the train engine to get it into place for the journey, which was fun to see. Ah, did I mentions a steam engine was hauling the train carriages?

The train staff were all lovely, especially the first class carriages host. The train was not particularly busy, but I was very conscious that I was single traveller among couples and family groups. It does take some time to become used to be a single after 45 years of being a couple. No one spoke to me, but then I didn't make an effort to speak to anyone. Ray would have certainly been chatting to someone and perhaps pulling me into the conversation. 

Smoke rising while the engine gets up a head of steam.

What a handsome beast.

I walked up the red carpet to board and this looked very comfortable, along with being quite beautiful.

I can see where I've been.

There were some sleeper compartments. The seat will make a bed and the fancy woodwork above the seat will drop down to make another bed. In one corner was a drop down metal wash basin.

It was quite a chilly morning and the host informed us that the next first class coach had heating. 

It did, by way of a split system reverse cycle air conditioning unit that can be seen in this photo. 

Meanwhile back in the rear first class carriage, a little fire was burning to warm us. But given a woman had her legs over the front of the flickering fire, I guess that was fake news. 

We had just crossed a viaduct, ok, a very modest viaduct.

We arrived in the very historic town Maldon after a very relaxing 45 minute journey, with the train reaching its peak speed of 40 km/h/25. This artwork was in the adjacent park.

Err yeah, whatever.

I couldn't believe how much gushing water was flowing into the train's water tank. It's a thirsty beast. 

It is not for me to judge Maldon by a one hour visit, but I am glad I changed my mind from staying in Maldon and choosing Castlemaine. As I walked the short distance to the town proper for some sustenance, a Sikh man passed me by walking with great purpose on the footpath. I saw him later emerge back at Castlemaine from a train compartment. He was clearly a solo traveller too. We could have chummed up and discussed our common interest.

An incinerator smoke stack of some kind. Ok, minimal research, it is gold mining related. They knew how to lay bricks in 1863. 

The engine had done a run around and was now at what was the back of the train, with our balcony facing the back of the engine.

While after the train trip, I am driving home, I think I owe Hercules Poirot by having one gin and tonic in the art deco carriage. The bar/cafe is visible in this photo.

Yes, quite good fun being behind the hard working engine. 

I was so relaxed during the return journey, time sped by, and once back at Castlemaine Station, I headed for home, with one brief stop off to stretch my legs, back, neck, hips, knees etc. I dunno about this travelling alone caper. The second weekend of May will see me away for a bit but with family and my lads. My nieces and nephew will be there, with my eight great nieces and nephews, along with four inherited great nieces and nephew. 

*Younger than me but still comparatively an old bloke. My age self awareness continues its delusional state.