Rochester 3

We checked out before 10am on the Sunday and planned to brunch at the local bakery where we bought cake the day before. It was not to be as it was closed. This seems so silly as Sunday would be a busy day for the bakery. If it wanted to close, Monday or Tuesday would be better days. We went back to the cafe where we brunched the day before and shared a large sausage roll with coffee, and on our way we went. 

Normally I would not write about an uneventful trip home but Tradie Brother convinced me it would not be too far out of our way to visit Colbinabbin. I think I've broken my tongue, so don't even try to pronounce the name. We don't know and neither does Tradie Brother. Colbo for short. It is a bit of a one horse town without much of interest, except these.

Ah, just to slip this one in as we departed Rochester. It is always nice to see a good clock. 

Margaret reminded me that I took a photo of the Shamrock Hotel where we dined the first night. It is a great example of the hotel style at the time and a great example of a thorough incompetent behind a phone camera.

With a smaller hotel right next door.

These huge and heavy trucks break up roads everywhere. Clearly roads now need to be built to a higher standard. There were a lot of these trucks travelling through the centre of town. 

So, more silo art in Colbo. 

Annual picnic day perhaps.

There is a tractor pulling competition.

Noisy it seems. 

The CFA is a volunteer fire fighting organisation. 

The local train station with waiting passengers.

The piece de resistance. R took a selfie and it looked like smoke from the train was pouring into his head, rather like I took a camera photo in the '80s of a water spout coming out of his head at the Lake Burley Griffin. Maybe the train trucks being towed are full of wheat. 

Song lyrics encouraging people to visit Colbo.

I didn't link to him yesterday but Tim Bowtell painted these silos, the same artist who painted the Iddles Lane mural panels I showed you yesterday.

We are away again this weekend for the scattering of Mother's and Step Father's ashes. Back soon.

Rochester 2

Saturday morning we brunched at 7 Beans Coffee. Neither of us were very hungry so we shared a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich. By chance I discovered nearby Iddles Lane, with this series of murals featuring the life and times of retired homicide detective, the well known Ron Iddles who was born in Rochester. Victorians may well remember seeing Ron on tv for media appearances. The artist is Tim Bowtell. 

Ron was one of twins and his twin brother Barry is a successful and entrepreneurial chef of world renown. He owns a couple of restaurants in Queenscliff, near Sister. This is a broken website but the text is still there.

We crossed the main street, past this park and over the railway lines to another park to see...

some silo art. The artist is the well known Dvate and the murals are excellent.

A closer look at the park we walked past.

The table and benches are strange with a roof like structure that is open and would let the hot sun through, and rain. Style over substance.

The extended family of our Hairdresser Friend are buried in this cemetery about half an hour's drive away, including her father. We met my two brothers there and spent about half an hour wandering the cemetery until the flies drove us away. The flies seemed very attracted to the personal insect repellent I had applied to myself. 

Rumours of the death of James O'Brien are exaggerated and I doubt he would want be buried here. 

James died a little short of his sixtieth birthday.

This old masonry grave was given a renovation at some point with tiles added. The glue was not great. 

We were returning to our motel but ended up driving straight past and on to the local bakery for cake and coffee. 

Back at the motel R napped. When he woke I suggested a spa. It was too small for two, I went first. There were a couple of tubes of lotion to pour into the water. I was going to see if one would be enough but R said to use both. It was ok at this stage but once in and the spa jet function turned on, the foam was growing alarmingly. I just kept pushing it over the tiled side and let some water out to lower the level. I won the battle, but only just. When R took his turn, he couldn't get in because the water was too hot. That was after I'd been in and the jets had blown cold air into the water. More water was drained and cold added.  The foam was starting to reduce by now. Good fun.

It was back to Step Mother's where my brothers were cooking roast lamb for dinner. Tradie Brother looked after the meat and ABI Brother, the vegetables. I set the table and R made gravy, while Step Mother's partner got in the way in the kitchen. Five men in a kitchen to make one roast meal. Step Mother remained in her usual lounge room chair and ate her meal there. She was terribly interested in the tv and although I wanted to talk to her properly, it just wasn't the time. After dinner we again fled said our goodbyes and she thanked us for visiting. Her partner really enjoyed having the company. 

It is a sad situation for them, and just like Mother, they did not  set themselves up early enough in comfort before they became too old. I expect Step Mother will go into care a long way away in Latrobe Valley near her daughter, and her partner will stay in the house as long as he can with increased services. 

Outage

After years of faultless performance, TPG has finally let us down with our Fibre to the Building via its private cable, failing us. The net was off and on and then just incredibly slow. That is like a two minute delay to answer blog comments this evening. IE, I would write a reply and the computer would hang for two minutes before publishing. Consequently there isn't a post for today and even getting this published has been so time consuming. Not happy Jan. 

Rochester 1

I drove the quickest route to where we were staying in Rochester to visit Step Mother and her partner. About half the trip was freeway at 110 km/h, 70.. We stopped off at Calder Park truck stop, with so many chain takeaway options available. We bought very unhealthy deep fried chicken and dreadful coffee. 

After the town of Kyneton, we were off freeway and on serious country roads. I was out of practice with driving along hilly, winding and narrow country roads at 100 km/h/60. I was somewhat stressed, with the sat nav being unhelpful. I should have used my phone and Google Maps. There were showers of rain and at one time torrential rain that caused me to slow down. But we made it almost within the 2.45 suggested hours.

How nice! The Motel owner upgraded us to the best room.

Tradie and ABI Brother were staying overnight at Step Mother's, so around 4 we drove 15 minutes or so to visit Step Mother. She is now 85 and her partner is mid 90s. At the back of the house down a few steps is an informal area with a large table and chairs and we and my brothers sat there chatting with Step Mother's partner who is hard of hearing. Even though it was not even 6pm, both of my brothers were drunk as skunks. ABI had his voice at the volume he used to use to make Mother hear him. All voices were raised to speak to Bill. We were chatting for well over an hour, with no sign of Step Mother although we could see she was sitting at her laptop computer at a desk sitting in a chair. She mostly reposts pretty flowers and scenery to FaceBook. Later she said she heard our voices and was surprised we were there too.

Well, I am here to see her, so I must. She was by then lying nearly flat in the lounge room watching horse racing on the the tv. She doesn't gamble, so I wonder why? She has bad spinal arthritis and in constant severe pain. R and I chatted a bit to her, but she seemed distracted by what was on tv.

As soon as it was polite, we fled, reapplied our lippy at the motel and drove for a minute or so to the Shamrock Hotel. R ate a nice beef burger and I chose the entre serve garlic prawns with rice and salad. The salad had the most amazing dressing, one I have never tasted before. Six prawns were plenty for me. The tucker was delicious.

Once back at our room, heavy rain pounded down on our roof. Tradie Brother said 12mm overnight. but there was more earlier. 

R slept for 11 hours, exhausted. Here are a few photos, mostly from the first day. Rings at the pub for you to hitch your horse?

I can't say the interior of the hotel was lovely, but the exterior wasn't too bad. 

Our room had a spa bath. 

Yeah, ok. Clever, but is Doin Time still an operating business?

The doorway to our motel room. The hatch to the right of the door is to deliver breakfast on a tray. It was sealed up. But breakfast could still be delivered with a knock at the door. 

The pewl darling, the pewl. 

I tried for an arty photo of dew drops sitting on grass leaves. Bit of a fail. The don't glisten as they did when I saw them. 

I iz surprised

Here is a couple of interesting maps I came across, displaying areas of heat in Greater Melbourne and peninsulas on both sides of the bay and they rather surprised me.

Melbourne sits at the top of the bay with its huge tall buildings pumping out air conditioning heat when the weather is warm, vast expanses of concrete and asphalt, congested traffic pumping out heat, a point where most public transport runs closely together generating heat, as those who use London's tube trains know. So why isn't the city and inner to the middle suburbs the hottest?

While it may be partly topographical, the west to the left is very flat, I put it down to street trees and large established parks in the city and inner to middle areas, principally elm and plane trees. I am not suggesting outer areas should have such trees, better that we use native vegetation, but trees are what these high heat areas really need. Also the west is generally a cheaper area to live with poorer public transport and long time and recent immigrants who either don't like large tress or don't have land enough for large trees. 

There is a couple of curious heat areas to me, the Bellarine Peninsula on the bottom left where Sister lives, and above the small other bay to the right, Westernport, encompassing the town where Ex Sis in Law lived. I thought it was her husband's son in law that made me feel hot when I was there and he was too. It seems it was just climatic. 

We're away for a few days to visit ageing Step Mother. See you all soon.  

Thoroughly Modern Millie

While I liked the convenience of just swiping my phone screen to make it operational, R convinced me it was not secure, which I already knew. Use a four digit PIN as I do, he suggested. Eventually I did and although I became used to entering the PIN to open the phone, I still found it a nuisance. 

Although fingerprint recognition was an option on my last phone, after buying my latest, I decided to give it a try. Nothing gained, and all that. It wasn't too difficult, the only problem I had was that in sunlight I would have to swipe the screen to find the finger print symbol on the screen to wake the phone up, but the more I used the phone, I came to know exactly where to put my finger on the screen. All good.

I've been observing people using their phones at public transport card readers and paying for goods in shops. At times it seemed to be more trouble than it was worth, with card readers not responding but when I saw someone my age pay using their phone to pay, that was it. I will not be left behind.

I already use Stocard on my phone for large company loyalty cards, thanks to a former blogger who lives on the mid New South Wales coast. That helped me remove cards from wallet. 

Again it was easier enough and an automated system contacted my bank and sent a six digit code to my phone to confirm my identity for both my debit card and separately my credit card and it was all done. I chose my debit card as the normal payment choice as I primarily use my debit card and so I have to open the app to choose my credit card. I only use my credit card when paying for internet purchases, holiday travel and accommodation. 

But I didn't actually know how to use the system. Does the app need to open? Does the phone need to be unlocked? A little online research told me the app doesn't need to be open but normally you have to open your phone. I also discovered the centre of my phone is where the RFID reader is located. I was set to go.

Do you want a disaster story? Sorry it isn't. It works and does so brilliantly. I guess those who have trouble paying with phones are using older models. Now a further discovery from yesterday is that when paying over $100 in a shop, I no longer need to enter to enter my PIN as I did when tapping my card. I asked staff why and she said it was just tech stuff and because I must use fingerprint or face recognition on my phone.

I love tech but believe me, I will always have my physical low tech cards with me. I don't trust this higher tech stuff and our phone internet systems, as was recently proved with many hours of downtime by our second largest telco Optus, owned by the SingTel which is owned by the government of Singapore. As seems to be often happening, the female CEO of Optus Australia became the sacrificial lamb and subsequently resigned. 

A Docklands Stroll

For Sale: One large wheel, hardly used, must be moved to a view other than of railway yards, not operating, vacant possession.  

Not for sale: Cow up a Tree, loved by many.

Once a Lady Class Sydney ferry, retired in 1991, refurbished and is now a privately owned showboat. She was named after Lady Cutler, wife of a New South Wales Governor. 

A condemned pier and it has been deemed too expensive to repair. Shed 14 next door was often used for dance parties. I was there a number of times but my memory of the times is very hazy after our arrival.

The studios of commercial television station Channel 7. Behind is our second major sports ground after the Melbourne Cricket Ground. It's had various names so it is best to refer to it as Docklands Stadium.

Among all the smart and shiny boats, this older one had so much more visual appeal.

It's art. You cannot question its merit.

More art.

Our own walkie talkie building behind a building from Dubai. London's walkie talkie is here. It was learnt that measures had to be taken to prevent such a design from concentrating the sun's rays like a magnifying glass and thereby frying objects on the streets below. The measure taken was is faces south, which is like north in the northern hemisphere as far as the sun goes.

Old tram colours with tram like windows but not a tram. A tramboat.