3 – Sunday 4 November
We headed up to the Dandeenong Ranges. I’m not sure whether their height qualifies them as a mountain range.
We took a short stroll up a modest climb to the top of Mount Donna Buang. At 1250m, not exactly a major god amongst the mountain deity but pleasant enough.
Later, dinner at the Roti Boti – an Indian restaurant – saw us content but with me craving sleep towards the end of the evening. Twice I caught myself just before my sleepy head dropped into my lamb curry. Did anyone notice?
Of course. They all noticed.
Questions of etiquette …
Having slept reasonably well, I wake thinking about where we are – in the Australian home of our hosts – Mark and Amy; People we knew from Goring. Amy invited us to stay with them at their home in Brighton Beach – just south of Melbourne City – only a few weeks before we set out from the UK.
For a short while I considered the etiquette of staying in the home of relative strangers. Can we really expect these lovely people to provide our meals and occasional cups of tea?
We borrowed bikes and all cycled to Ricketts Point for lunch and cake.
I’m liking this part of the world.
1 – Friday 2 November
It’s a pleasant dilemma to face – whether to remain in bed doing nothing more than being aware of the sound of the air-con unit doing its thing on one side of me and Ellie’s gentle breathing on the other.
Deciding to remain in bed I start this journal.
This option provides a contrast to the frenetic way our lives have been lived for what seems like many months now. I remain shocked by the sheer amount of effort involved in moving us out of our modestly-sized rented home of the last 10 years. My body physically aches from the effort involved. I guess my aging body has probably benefitted from the exertion (although I’m still experiencing a problem with my left shoulder over two weeks later).
I struggle to know what day it is and I’m not sure whether to trust the time on my watch or my phone. DB provides the answer. It’s early, at least by Melbourne time. My brain can acknowledge that it’s the morning; my body remains unconvinced. I look to my left but the heavily-curtained window provides no clue. It was late when we got to this hotel after our long flight from the UK. I note just how well Ellie took this journey in her stride – no tensions or issues.
The unfamiliar noise of some exotic bird in the trees above the swimming pool outside our door adds an auditary dimension to the experience. I’m feeling surprisingly good. Time for a cup of tea. Nice.
A comment that DB makes reminds me that we are homeless – at least if we ignore the van – which I’m happy to do right now after having focussed so much of my attention on it since April. I’m further reminded of our status in the world when I discover the empty key ring that once retained our house keys. For the moment, at least, I’m excited by this new freedom.
My first sight of a Kangaroo is a dead one by the roadside at Melbourne airport.
My first sight of a significant Australian spider was closer to my bedroom.
Large: yes (-ish); dangerous: no. A moderately-sized Huntsman, I’m informed by my Australian host, who I have faith knows of such things. I guess it pays for an Australian in Australia to know their spiders.
I later find the Spidentify app which might be useful in the absence of a knowledgable Australian.