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Wednesday, August 30th - so we decided to go to the town of Santa Marta, which would have normally involved taking the boat back to Cartagena amd then a taxi to the bus stop, bus to Santa Marta, taxi to hotel, presumably.

But when talking to the hotel staff they said they could arrange all the way to Santa Marta for 1,100,000 pesos ($275), yeah okay, cuts out all those stages. Amd otherwise we'd have been traveling late since the regular boat to cartagena would only leave at 3pm, get there at 4, we'd be lucky to get to Santa Marta by 8, amd I'm still leery of traveling after dark here. Colombia has come a long way but I've heard comparatively recent stories of whole busses being robbed after dark.

So we had a leisurely morning, had breakfast, went swimming, declined the crab man (who this time came by in a one person canoe), amd at 10:45 departed as the only passengers on a boat to Baru.

Baru is a peninsula of the mainland amd closest part of the mainland to the Rosario Islands. It only took ten minutes to reach land, then we entered a tunnel like channel in the mangroves that wound back amd forth through the tangle. We passed several similarly sized outbound boats.

It was around this time we learned by text of the coup in Gabon. Jesus there's a spate of coups in Africa lately. I was blaming Wagner but Wagner was snuffed out just the other day so who knows.

Anyway we came out of the mangrove tunnel into a little bay amd the docks of the town of Baru, looking like the very picture of a sleepy backwater with lots of small boats in various states of disrepair pulled up to the bank. We nosed up to the main dock. It was so shallow you literally couldn't get a boat bigger than these little things in. Here our driver was waiting for us in his surprisingly decent looking white sedan car. We transferred our stuff amd were on our way again.



The town of Baru was really run down for what's reputed to be a tourist destination, but i suppose tourists just go straight to the resorts amd hotels amd never see the town. There's a small town in the center of Rosario Island, i wonder if it looks like this too, while surrounded by the elegant hotels we saw.



The roads were compacted sand, some unusable, trash lay around, the houses had thick bars on their windows amd gates, though some were painted cheerful vibrant colors amd a bougainvillea overhung the street prettily here amd there.



Once we left town it was mainly mangroves on either side of the road, though for awhile we were driving just along the sea (amd mangroves on the other).



We slowed for some figures in the road, one leaning on a shovel, it turned out to be teenage girls filling potholes, amd the driver handed them some change as we passed. I'd seen a similar phenomena in Africa in the past, road repair volunteers working for tips, though it had always been men.



After awhile we got into more built up areas amd by amd by we were driving through cartagena (about an hour after leaving Baru, just after noon now). Stopped at an ATM to get the cash to pay this fellow amd continued on north of town.



I noted even on the major highway, which we were on now, one would see the occasional horse drawn cart.



Landscape outside of cartagena continued at first to be thick coastal scrub but gradually changed to savanna on low rolling hills.

Our driver seemed nice. Cristina amd he seemed to have some good conversations.

After about two more hours we were approaching the city of Barranquilla amd our driver asked if we wanted to have lunch on the boardwalk there or just hurry through. Si lunch on boardwalk por favor.



He took us to this place that was like a food court on the boardwalk beside the river, but don't you be picturing your local mall food court, i think it was the cutest most well decorated food court I've ever seen. It's name was Caiman del Rio amd it as decorated with hundreds of cute winged caimans all along the ceiling. Amd what was mysterious to me was that usually a food court is attached to a mall or other populous area, this seemed to be in an industrial area, not even a heavily peopled industrial area, with no obvious source of people wandering in for food (yes it was on the boardwalk along the river but nothing else was) but inside were over a dozen nice looking eateries amd plenty of customers. It was vibrant. It was really quite a mystery.



Anyway we ate at a place that specialized in tacos, amd brought one taco amd a coke to our driver.



Then we continued on our way. Crossed a bridge over the river (river Magdalena). On the pedestrian part of the bridge there appeared to be some people shooting a video involving two persons in furry amd/or dinosaur suits.

Passed through one of many toll booths shortly thereafter, but at this one i noted the toll booth attendant had allowed a young (9-10?) girl to stand literally just beside the window begging/trying to sell some packaged cookies. Our driver handed her some change.

After Barranquilla the road had wetlands on ether side of it for quite awhile. Finally we arrived in the town on the far side, which appeared to mostly consist of small cinderblock shanties with corrugated metal roofs, amd immense amounts of trash in the unpaved streets amd squares. Several soccer games going in soccer fields in the town though, apparently it was soccer o clock (5pm?)

A young man came to clean our windows at a stop light. I'm so used to waving away people that do that that it came as a surprise to me that our driver rolled down the window amd handed him some money. I suppose it can be a useful service.

After this town (Cienaga) some tall mountains actually loomed up ahead. As twilight was setting in we arrived in Santa Marta nestled in a valley by the sea. At a stop light some young men (17-20) started break dancing in front of the cars during the red light amd quickly went out to collect tips before it turned green. Our driver handed them some money as did a few other cars i believe.

Finally around 18:00 we arrived at our hotel. It seems quite nice, elegant and spacious amd for only $30 something a night.

Our driver put us in contact with someone who arranges tours here, so we're kind of being handed off from our previous hotel to our driver to this new tour person. Anyway it's just past midnight amd tomorrow is another day (I don't go in for this hogwash that it's already tomorrow since it's past midnight, it's not tomorrow till i fall asleep amd wake up)
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Monday, July 10th - In the early evening we drove from my brother's place on Alameda Island in the Bay Area to Davis, about an hour inland to the northeast. I noted the mothball fleet at Suisun Bay which had been dozens of old Navy ships all moored up in lines when I was more regularly traveling that route 15 years ago, now was reduced to just three or four vessels.

   Our first stop was noted Davis pizza place Woodstocks Pizza. Which... was not where I left it. It had just move down a few lots down the same block, though during Covid that street itself (G Street) had been turned into a pedestrian only street and from the looks of it may remain so.
   Since we were getting the pizza to go, I led the way to the Davis Beer Shoppe across the street to get accompanying beverages. As remembered, they had a great selection. There were two delicious beers I wanted to get for $18 and $15 respectively but dad scoffed at the price so I was shamed into getting a cheaper but still delicious one. I was covetous to sneak back there and get them later but never got around to it, rather to my regret. Yes that's a high price when you're thinking beer like "bud light," but compared to a bottle of wine that's not outrageous and a beer of this quality is imo more than comparable to a good wine -- it's rarer, takes more skill to make and I like it a lot better.


The Mad River" one didn't excite me much but the other three! the one on the right is the one I got in the end

   Anyway, we then proceeded to my aunt and uncle Ben and Bev's place. Inside the house it smelled vaguely of popcorn, which I didn't put together until the next morning, when Ben was talking about how he had roasted the coffee beans the night before -- he has a coffee roaster in the garage. They had already eaten but sat with us on their nice outdoor patio while we ate the delicious pizza. The Woodstocks pizza was indeed as delicious as I remembered, as was the beer I'd gotten.



Tuesday, July 11th - In the morning I checked off another eatery from my list. Met up with my friend Casey "the wizard" at Crepeville. Case tutors in physics and is rather a recognized character on campus due to his penchant for wearing capes and such, and hence commonly known to one and all as "the wizard." I had the "hawaiian crepe," a crepe stuffed with ham, pineapple, and teriyaki sauce. It is delicious.
   While we were eating I noted yet more e-bikes go by. America seems to be in the grip of a plague of them! Casey mentioned that electric scooters have been around for awhile, but somehow that doesn't offend my notions of propriety the same way. A scooter is for hopping on and off and scooting about, it is fitting and inoffensive for it to be electric. But gosh darn bikes are meant to be gosh darn peddled!!

   Around mid day my parents and I set out with uncle Ben to go on a short day hike a bit out of town at Lake Berryessa. As we were driving through town Ben told us about a shocking set of knife attacks that had occurred in Davis only two months ago at the end of April / beginning of May. Very sadly, the very first victim was a local Davis character known as "The Compassion Guy." The Compassion Guy, Davis Breaux had graduated from Stanford, but, to quote wikipedia "After a breakup with a girlfriend, Breaux became dejected and began "searching for inspiration", according to the New York Times.[1] He discovered the work of Karen Armstrong, who argued that "compassion was inherent to peace".[1] He gave away his possessions and moved to Davis in 2009.[1] Breaux typically carried a notebook with him, and asked passersby to contribute to it by writing their definition of compassion.[1] Local residents and workers at businesses in the area considered him "a communal therapist of sorts", according to the Times.[1] He was known as "the Compassion Guy"."
   The knife murderer was a former UC Davis student who had been expelled just a day or two prior and murdered Breaux on the bench he was known to hang out around, already known as "the Compassion Bench" (I had noticed it and its current covering in flowers earlier on my way back from Crepeville).
   While this crime was still unsolved and not yet known to be the beginning of a spree, two days later a promising young computer science student was attacked in a park, also with a large knife. One or more passersby intervened and chased off the attacker but the victim died of his severe wounds.
   Two days later he attacked a homeless woman in her tent, she was wounded but she escaped and managed to call 911.
   As you can imagine by now the whole little town was in fear. Apparently the suspect was sighted at one point but the police took over an hour to arrive at the location and by then he had walked off. Then he was sighted the next day near the park of the original attack, and once again the police took 40 minutes (this is a small town something of this priority should take mere moments) to arrive. The police have claimed they were inundated with erroneous tips at the time, which I'd imagine is somewhat true but it still seems like they should have been able to respond more quickly. Especially since something like 15 people called him in when sighted at this park before the police arrived. You'd think by the third or fourth call reporting someone matchign the description of the suspect at the same park he'd attacked at earlier the police would send someone pronto. I have a generally dim view of the Davis police due to their declining to do anything about some guys who jumped me in a park there in 2002 and left me unconscious, even though my own investigation came up with their names, where they worked and lived. But police said it was "just a fight." Knocked unconcious begad.
   This all makes Davis sound really unsafe but I swear it really is a very peaceful little town it just has someone lose their marbles once every 20 years.

   Anyway so we drove about an hour west and went on a hike up by Lake Berryessa (famously a site where the Zodiac Killer did some murders in 1969). It was a bit hot and dry, but it was fun because both mom and uncle Ben are pretty keen on identifying plants and animals.

   We got back from that around maybe 14:30, hung out at Ben and Bev's place for a bit, but then were off again, to the swimming hole on the American River in Sacramento, about half an hour east of Davis.
   Despite the temperature pushing 100f (38c), the river was very cold. Too cold for me! But dad went swimming, he's never deterred by cold water. I did wade out up to my knees. There were a number of other people wading about in the cold river as well. And we marveled that there were about two dozen lifejackets on the bank that appeared to be just there for people to use and no one had run off with them or recklessly tossed them in the river for the fun of it. Sadly it seems shocking that no member of the public was so badly behaved.

   Back and Ben and Bev's that evening one by one more relatives got invited to dinner, until finally it was Ben and Bev, myself and my parents, Bev's mom (88, recently widowed), my cousin Chelsea (Ben & Bev's daughter), her husband and their two boys (10 & 12?); my cousin Sylvan (brother of the recently married Linnea), his girlfriend, and his mom Sherry (mother of the recently married Linnea). So it was about as many as sometimes one gets together for thanksgiving, though the dinner was much more simple. The primary entertainment was recounting the wedding, which we had all been at. Ben having been the "official photographer," with the nice DSLR and well and truly good photography skills, he showed us a slideshow of the photos he got after dinner. It reminded me of days of yore when the family would gather around for a slide show (actual slides!) of someone's vacation abroad.



Wednesday, July 12th - It was time to head back south! Except my brother Tobin had gone up to somewhere further in the foothills on the American River to camp with his son Kestrel, and we decided to go visit them there before heading back south. He was about an hour east of us near the town of Plymouth California. This is up in classic gold country, rolling rugged golden (with dry grass) hills covered in oak forest. Beautiful country. Through location sharing (on facebook?) we had a "last known location" for Tobin but kept coming up against locked gates and eventually gave up. As we'd find out later he was indeed actually behind one of these gates and there was a gate code, but at the time he'd gone out of cell phone range we hadn't yet resolved to go see him there and so this hadn't been communicated.
   But it wasn't a waste because we saw some beautiful country we hadn't seen before, and we had stopped in a little mexican restaurant in a small town on the way that was actually really delicious.

   Familiar drive down the length of California once we got back on The Five. When we stopped for gas at a place with a particularly large refrigerator of drinks I noticed some interesting ones I'd never seen before. What is "COca Cola Ultimate?" And "Dr Pepper Cream Soda?" I was curious about these but not in the mood for a soda at the time. And I noted Snapple has gone to a more rustic looking label?

   Got caught in traffic in LA in which we were at nearly a standstill for an hour. Apparently there was an "officer involved accident" just ahead and the whole freeway was closed off while it was investigated. There was an exit cars could get off the highway on but it was totally insufficient for the volume of cars on the freeway and in the hour we only moved .5 miles. Then it was cleared all at once and we went on our way, arriving home around 10pm.


Thursday, July 13th - Most just relaxed at home. Got doughnuts this morning. Got doughnuts for breakfast (as mentioned earlier they don't really do doughnuts in Australia). In the afternoon went to the beach. Again as usual I found the water too cold and just got my feet wet but dad swam about two kilometers, from one beach where we dropped him off, and mom and I drove to the next beach where dad came in after coming in past the pier, to emerge at the beach seemingly out of nowhere from the local beachgoers perspective. Many people were out enjoying the beach.

   From there we proceeded up the coast just a bit to Dana Point, where beloved tallship I used to volunteer on, The Pilgrim, had sadly sunk at her dock in March 2020. I of course haven't been back here since. I didn't know if there'd be anything left of her but we found some of her spars, anchors, and one of the tops (what you'd call a crow's nest but really its just called a top) and other bits. And then a little bit later after we'd walked to the breakwater and back we found some more pieces that had been more intentionally set up as a memorial of the ship. Somehow I feel like the pieces sitting cut up and seemingly discarded fit more with the general impression I'd had of the organization's ownership's general neglect of the ship. When she sank there was a lot of muttering that it was directly through the ownership's neglect that she sank.



   After that we had an early dinner at Pedro's Tacos, another classic local establishment, delicious burritos and tacos. While we sat there eating I noted many e-bikes going by, and also rather laughed to myself at the very California lingo of the surf dudes who walked up to the window to order, lots of "dude" and "bro" and words connected with "like."



   And now this is caught up! I can't believe my return to Australia is quickly approaching now, next Tuesday the 18th! At which point I'll be going right back into the heart of winter which I'm NOT excited about!

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Friday, July 7th - we drove up to Northern California along The Five. Of note, i thought The 5 was remarkably wide near home where it's six lanes on a side, but they're actually expanding it to eight per side.

Anyway so the drive takes one through the urban sprawl of OC and then LA, then up into the mountains north of LA until finally abruptly one descends into the broad flat Central Valley. Which is the bread basket of California and much of the US, but most of the south half is just a flat plain of tumbleweeds.

As is tradition we stopped at Kettleman City for In N Out for lunch. Place was a madhouse with a line out the door (it was 13:30 though, so still in lunch rush) but our food actually came pretty quickly. Faster than we could cycle ourselves through the bathroom line. Place needs to double in size.

Anyway the In N Out double double burger is a divine thing, it's only downside being that while eating it one is haunted by the bittersweet knowledge that one will not always be eating it. Also it's just slightly too small to thoroughly satisfy me. In N Out being endlessly customizable you can order a "3×3" which i did on this occasion but i think the divine proportions are off with that. It's still a damn good burger but you don't hear the angels singing while eating it.

I've been up the Five countless times but usually I'm headed all the way up to the Davis/Sacramento area or beyond. On this occasion we exited the central valley towards the south end of the Bay Area via the 152, through rolling golden hills. Little valleys of garlic farms gave way to the South Bay town of San Jose, we proceeded to the western edge of it, a cute little (expensively cute looking!) town called Saratoga, where we had a hotel for the night as it's the last civilization before the Santa Cruz forests.

Most of the restaurants in town were extremely pricey but we found an affordable fish and chips place and had a very nice meal. I had shrimp tacos and sangria :d



I remarked that it seemed like 60-70% of the cars driving by or that we'd seen parked were electric cars, and dad pointed out we were literally in "Silicon Valley," just beside Cupertino in fact. Later at the somewhat scarce parking around the wedding venue picnic site in the red woods i notice two of two illegally parked cars were teslas (i don't think they belonged to anyone attending the wedding).

Amusingly a historical plaque said this town was once a notoriously rough logging town noted for its drunken brawls at its many saloons. Now it seems mainly a place to drive your trophy wife date in your tesla to casually drop $100 per plate on a meal in a cute leafy place with quaint village charm just outside of the big city.



Saturday, July 8th - "continental breakfast" at our hotel was the better sort of individually wrapped mass produced pastries and yogurt cups. Then we drove up into the mountains, the road immediately becoming very curvy.

For all our collective lifelong interests in hiking in California wilderness areas neither my parents nor i really knew much about this immediate area so we were looking with avid interest at the forest valleys we passed and taking note of the busy trailheads.

The wedding location was seemingly as deep into the forest as one could get. In about the middle of it, and yet at the end of the long winding road so one felt not in the middle but at the far end of the back and beyond. The road finally descending deep into a narrow valley full on the giant redwoods. I had assumed Linnea and Pascal, the betrothed, had chosen this place because they'd become familiar with it while students at nearby Santa Cruz and knew this was the specific best redwood grove for a wedding -- but i learned they actually hadn't been here yet when they booked it (six months ago)!

Apparently there's a bit of a general grumble about the current booking system for national parks in California -- because there's no cost and no penalty for not showing up and intense competition for sites, people book up sites quickly six months in advance, then there plans change but they don't unbook and the site goes unused. We saw this first hand as we (my parents and i) almost couldn't get a spot. Finally got one at the furthest end of the campground due to either a last minute cancelation or some finagling amongst other family members with bookings, but then on arrival we found heaps of empty spots. (But you can't just take one because for all you know the rightful owners will show up at 9pm righteously irate at your squatting)


Pictured: Pascal attempts unsuccessfully to get through his vows without sentimental tears

Wedding ceremony was delightful. Aunty Bev (my aunt as well as the bride's aunt) officiated in her capacity as someone who had also married her highschool sweetheart. Linnea and Pascal had met in junior high, begun dating in high school. Ten years later now they've survived periods of attendance at different grad schools and all the other trials and tribulations of the first decade of adulthood. Linnea recently got her doctorate in neuro biology and Pascal in climatology.

In the evening "the younger crowd" of the bride and grooms college friends and us cousins who don't yet have small children wiled away the time around a big campfire. All their friends are climatologists, oceanographers, geologists and such so there were many interesting conversations and certainly a generally conservation minded world-view pervaded among all (incidentally my brother Eric, who was a Trump supporter, along with his immediate family, was not in attendance. He has cut all ties with me and a number of other family members).

I had turned off my phone when it got dark, having 10% left of the battery at that point. Even though there was no reception I'd been using it to take pictures until then, but wanted to save some to get back to the camp site. Just after midnight the group began to break up so i started heading back, turned on my shoes .. it displayed 0% for a moment before shutting off. Tried turning it on again in case that was a fluke but it immediately died!

I thought I'd see if i could find my way via what distant campfire and moonlight might exist, and got about 50 meters until i got to an area between the group camp where the wedding party's friends were and the main campground, and here there was no campfire light, and essentially no light from the moon or stars filtered down through the towering trees. Even after standing there for my eyes to adjust until i imagine they were round as saucers and entirely dilated, there was literally nothing to be seen. Literally not my hands in front of me. There was no way I'd be able to proceed like this no matter how persevering and can-do my attitude might be. My only hope would be maybe someone would loan me a flashlight or something if i returned whence I'd come. There was the faintest flickering of the distant dying campfire so i was able to shuffle back that way, bouncing off the burbs of the road like a ping pong ball.

As luck would have it i ran into my cousin Sylvan (literarily one night note his name means "of the forest" so he's the most appropriate rescue in the situation), brother of the bride, who was just getting water before bed with his girlfriend Marlee and they volunteered to walk me all the way back to my campsite. During the walk we reflected that it really was a long and convoluted way and i never would have made it. And i was lucky i suppose, my phone had died immediately when i could still return to the start, if it had died halfway it would have been a real pickle!

When we arrived at the campsite, where i had a tent and my parents were sleeping in the car, i was anticipating just quietly skulking into my tent but the light came on in the car and my parents greeted me. As i would find out later, to hear my mom tell it it sounds like she suffered more than i did, unable to sleep in anticipation that i might get lost on the way back, at one point suggesting they go look for me though dad was sure i was fine.



Sunday, July 9th -
after a rather tasty camp breakfast prepared by my cousin Chelsea and her mom Aunty Bev, we headed out. Once again this took us through winding mountain forest roads before we entered the Bay Area urban expanse. Did you know there's a town in the bay area called "Alameda de las Pulgas," sounds all well and good until you've been studying Spanish and see that and realize it is "Grove of Fleas." 😳😳😳😳

Arrived at my brother Tobin's place on the island of Alameda (this grove unrelated to fleas). His wife had gone home early, not spending the night camping, to prepare a birthday party for their 3 year old Kestrel (I will once again note this name was shamelessly stolen as the name I've been saying for many years i intended to use). I had only met Kestrel for the first time at the wedding yesterday. So there was a pinata and several other young couples with similarly aged children came. I mostly read my book because I'm boring like that. (Currently the Flashman book where he participates in the 1868 British expedition into Ethiopia -- i had picked it up from the library)



Monday, July 10th - having just missed a ferry and Kestrel being asleep in the back, my parents decided to give me a bit of a tour of the former Alameda Naval Air Station. It was a weird mix of revitalized and derelict, a checkerboard of boarded up barracks and hangers which have turned into trendy breweries. It was a funny vibe, looking like a run down industrial area, you see people in front of a building expecting riffraff and it's invariably successful looking tech bros. We saw the former location of the Google X project Tobin had worked on --Makani, giant kites to generate electricity. That project had closed down as not quite economically viable. It had been based in the air base air traffic control building and they'd used some of the hangers for construction of their kites.



Just offshore off the airbase several fully autonomous drone sailboats bobbed at anchor.

Then we caught the ferry across the bay to San Francisco, which was quick and easy and fun. Spent two or three hours tooling around the embarcadero, had some delicious Mexican food at a recommended place, and returned on the ferry.

And now we're about to depart Tobin's place and head to Davis. My uncle Ben (Bev's husband, my mom's brother) was going to prepare us dinner but i interjected into the plans that much as i love a home cooked meal, and Ben is very good, there's several restaurants in Davis I've literally been day dreaming salivatorily of eating at for years. So i think we'll get Woodstocks Pizza :d

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Previous days of this trip in grey, you can see we've pretty thoroughly crisscrossed Gippsland!

Sunday morning we woke up to a pleasant sunny morning in our bnb in Golden Beach. First order of business was going down to the beach itself, just over the natural sand berm that is right along the coast for the whole coast in this area. On the beach side the beach stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions. Golden Beach is near the southern end of "90 mile beach," the extensive straight line of beach thats on the giant sand bar separating the "Gippsland Lakes" from the sea. First order of business was what you may have gathered is one of dad's favorite things: he went for a swim in the ocean.



   We then drove about five minutes down the beach to the site of a shipwreck in 1878. The steel ribs of this ship still protrude from the sand like the giant ribcage of some enormous beast (named Traralgon??). We walked along the beach here and collected some very fine shells.



   From thence we drove down the coast to the town of Seaspray and then headed inland to where my good friend Billie and her boyfriend live (Willung on the above map). It was kind of in the middle of rural Gippsland and our route there was along minor roads with lots of turns. I kind of like having an excuse to get way off the beaten track. We just barely caught Billie's boyfriend (Justin) as he was just leaving as we arrived. Then we had lunch with Billie (with primarily the sandwich fixings we'd brought). Her left arm was in a sling because she had smashed her finger in an accident at work on Wednesday or Thursday. She had sent me a picture of the x-ray, it looked like the end of one of her fingers was literally smashed. Something about someone commencing to move a truck when she hadn't finished securing the load in back or something. She works with her boyfriend on a team that welds together giant pipes for pipelines.
   After lunch Billie gave us a tour around the 500 acre farm in her 4x4. That was fun, as I knew it would be, because she knows nearly all the plants, which my mom always likes to know about, and had many stories about animals she'd seen here or there. When it came to the cows she lovingly recounted stories about at least a dozen of them (as mom would later say, "when she offered to show us the cows I didn't realize that they were basically her children").
   Previously I think my parents had only met Billie once very briefly in like 2016 or 2017, and due to their mutual interest in plants and both being awesome I always knew she and my mom would get along really well, so I was happy to finally get them together.

   I had been trying to make plans with Billie's twin sister Lek as well, both because Lek also lives near a cool place for a walk ("the Channels") and I kinda want to sohw off her rad house (a shed which she's insulated and made nice and replaced one whole wall with glass looking out to a magnificent view), and Lek herself is of course also rad. We'd tried making plans when we passed through this area Thursday but then they fell through, and the plan even this morning was to meet with Lek and Billie and Lek's place but the plans keep changing and Billie didn't feel up to leaving her property and now by the time we finished seeing the property and hanging out with her it was almost 15:00 and there wasn't really time to see Lek. Lek was understanding though. And then we headed off.



   It was only while we were on route west that we decided to take the ferry this time instead of going back through the city. I double checked that we could catch it in time -- we could at this point arrive at 18:21, in time for the last ferry of the day (at 19:00). I booked a ticket for the ferry online lest we arrive and be unable to get on. Now we were committed!
   Buying a ticket proved very unnecessary as the ferry seemed to be at less than a quarter capacity, maybe more like 15%. It was a lovely sunny and warm evening and we spent the trip up on deck in the fresh air, it was very pleasant.

   On the other side in Queenscliff we got fish and chips at a fish-and-chips-shop that advertised itself as having won best such shop in Australia several different years. We also ordered an "asian slaw" salad in lieu of chips, but they had no forks of any kind to provide so we just had to take it home. When I tried to eat it the next day I found it very bland until I added hoisin sauce and lime juice.

   Anyway, then we continued on our way home. My housemate Trent had asked multiple times what time we expected to get home, I suspect so we wouldn't catch him in flagrante delicto with his new girlfriend (who is 19 while he's 28 or 29, not that I'm judging), but because I'm a jerk I was pointedly vague about when we'd arrive. If he'd been bold enough to state specifically why he wanted to know I'd have given him a straighter answer but he had asked "when will you be back? Just so I can get the car out of the driveway" so I'd written back "On our way. If it makes you anxious you can just move the car now if you're not going out again." Be needlessly devious about your motives, get a needlessly devious response.

   Anyway we arrived home without incident and without walking in on anything scandalous. The end!


view from the car deck as we were leaving the dock

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(view on google maps)

   Saturday (this past, the 18th), we awoke in Marlo for the penultimate day of our expedition to the far eastern end of Victoria. After probably eating a simple breakfast in our nice little hotel room, we checked out and went down to the shore of the Snowy River, where people had been so frolicksom the night before. It was perhaps cooler now than then but still a comfortable temperature, and dad wanted to go swimming. Mom and I suggested swimming across but he prudently pointed out every now and then a motorboat hoons down the river probably not looking out for swimmers, and the current in the middle is an unknown factor. So he swap upstream for awhile and then came back. While he did so I explored a nearby nature path along the bank, through literal littoral rainforest and vine thickets (I was sorely tempted to just substitute literal for littoral there but people probably would have assumed I just made a dumb mistake). As usual dad declared the swim to be great.

   Then we commenced on our way. The first bit of the journey was parallel to the Snowy River, which was separated from the sea by a big brush covered sandbar for awhile. Then the road turned north and meandered through stately tall trees.



   Once we rejoined the A1 Princes Highway (again I note this is the very highway that goes past my home, if we hadn't taken all these sidequests to see other things we could have done this whole journey on just this one road) and headed east on it, the road mainly took broad swoops through forested mountainous terrain. The trees were huge. This area had badly burned in the beginning of 2020 (remember when we thought the year was starting out badly with half of Victoria on fire and some other natural disasters and that was even before Covid showed up). We also noticed after awhile a suspicious... lack of roadkill. Obviously it's sad to see roadkill, but to see a complete absence in an environment that should have plenty (high speed two lane highway through thick forest) is ominous. It makes us think the animal population of the area has not yet come close to recovering.
   Finally we got off the Princes highway, which continues from the eastern end of Victoria north all the way to Sydney (and if one were to follow it west from my house it takes an equally circuitous route to Adelaide at its other end). About twenty minutes on the smaller road to Mallacoota and... we were there! (about two hours after leaving Marlo)



   "Some believe that the name came from 'malagoutha' a local Ganay Aboriginal term of uncertain meaning." (google result from "what does Mallacoota mean" ?) but there's an interesting either potential explanation or remarkable coincidence -- Mallacoota, generally regarded as a little paradise by many, means, my Iraqi coworker informs me, "paradise" in Arabic. Could be someone who named it knew some Arabic (and hey, isn't Walhalla, where we were earlier, also a sort of paradise in a non-Australian language). Honestly in balance I think it's probably a coincidence but it's still interesting to note.
   Anyway, we discovered Mallacoota to consist of a small core of a town of houses and cafes surrounded by an extensive caravan park surrounding it on three sides and totalling 60-75% of the land area of the "town," and surrounding this a picturesque bay with many little boats moored up, a maze of reedy islands beyond. We were feeling a bit hurried because we still had a four hour drive to where we'd be staying the night. I perhaps had had a bit of "target fixation" getting us here but hey we made it. It was now around 14:00 and we figured we needed to be on the road again by 16:00.
   We looked at the cafes but none of them that were open actually appealed to us greatly. We were keen on the bakery but it turned out to be closed. Mom was suggesting we just have cheese sandwiches again but I was at the end of my rope with gosh darn cheese sandwiches. So we went to get food at what appeared to be the most popular place, a chinese restaurant. While there we observed the clientel was positively geriatric. They hobbled about feebly, barely navigating the step at the front door. We got our bowls of stir fry and took them to a picnic beach by the bay (about from where the above picture was taken), and found the food to be thoroughly thoroughly bland. I reflected back on the clientel and mused that their customer base probably likes it that way.
   Then we went on one of the shorter walks I had identified in the area. We were feeling really pressed for time but I felt like if we didn't go on a walk it would feel to much like we just came here and turned around. The walk was nice though, we heard many bird calls we hadn't heard before and at one point two smallish kangaroos (but bigger than wallabies) bounded across the trail just in front of us. There wasn't actually that much evidence that this area had burned, if it had, but there were a few blackened stumps. The big trees here seem to have survived and the smaller shrubbery thoroughly grown back.



   Then we drove to the bay entrance, where the above picture was taken, and then it was time to get back on the road! This was a four hour drive back across land we'd just covered, but it was all beautiful and interesting so at least as a passenger I didn't mind it. I'd offered to do some of the driving but dad seems content to do all the driving himself, and other than commenting that it was a lot of driving he didn't really complain. We passed a few random signs for walking tracks I wouldn't have known about if I hadn't seen the signs there, and if we were in less of a hurry it might have been nice to check at least one of them out. So for future note they are the "MacKenzie River Rainforest Walk" and "Cabbage Tree Walk"

   As is traditional for family road trips, we had some idle musingful conversations, like the subject of words that are almost the same but not, and whats the difference between them? Like I maintain there's subtle differences between "squish" and "squash," "floofy" and "fluffy" and "puttering" vs "pottering" about. I won't get into all of these (maybe a subject for their own entry?), but as to the last one, I think they both imply kind of doing various little tasks around the house, but while one might be accomplishing things while pottering about, one isn't really accomplishing anything while puttering about. And a special mention and this might literally be just a me thing, but I feel "hover" (hah-ver) and "hover" (huv-er) have subtly different meanings. Helicopters "huver," bumblebees "hahver."

   Anyway the purple line in the map at hte top of this entry is the new area covered headed out West on return from Mallacoota. It was mostly forested hills and low intensity pasture land until bairnsdale (which dad mispronounced as Brains-dale and I'll never be able to say correctly again!), and more thoroughly agricultural land west of there. We arrive in the town of Sale to get groceries and were rather shocked by how empty the town was. Traralgon (pop 26,000) on a Thursday evening had been really happening, Sale (pop 16,000) on a Saturday evening around the same time was like a ghost town. Also like a god damn labyrinth, major roads seeming to dead end. We wanted to go to Coles because we're more familiar with it, but literally couldn't find a way to get to the front entrance of the store and settled instead for a Woolworths we stumbled upon.
   Then we went to get KFC for dinner since we just wanted something quick. Here we had perhaps an error of differing national standards -- I never eat at KFC so I don't know the sizes of things, but my parents felt one piece of chicken for each of them would be sufficient and two for me. We asked for two breasts and two thighs but the bemulleted adolescent who took our order apparently interpreted that as two drum sticks and two breasts for some reason. And when my parents saw the small size of the portions they had gotten themselves they were very sad (I offered one of my two pieces, even though that was also insufficient for my appetite, but they declined). But that comes later because we took the food to the airbnb to eat there.

   From the town of Sale we continued on to our airbnb down on Golden Beach, arriving there just after the sun had set. This bnb, when we had looked at hte listing, had said "sheets aren't included but can be provided for a small fee." We thought that was really odd, who travels with their own bedsheets?? But whats a small fee, $5? $10? So we booked it and sent the host an inquiry about sheets. He had responded with "no worries" and a phraseology which lead my dad to think the host understood we'd need sheets and was agreeing to provide them.. and the fact that the "small fee" was $60 a bed (!!!!!!) WTF! We could probably buy our own sheets for that much! We actually considered doing so. But despite a lot of grumbling we were committed.
   Anyway, arriving at the place we found... NO SHEETS! And also no running water. And the host somehow had 4.83 star average and "super host" status. WTF. We sent him messages politely expressing our alarm and soon he was on the phone -- he hadn't thought we'd actually requested the sheets. He seemed reluctant to admit there were sheets on hand but eventually said they were in the locked garage and if we had a screwdriver we might be able to remove the lock deadbolt ... but that turned out to be removable simply by hand.
   As to the water, the host said tehre'd probably been a power outage earlier in the day and the pump needed to be turned back on. Which required dad to open a hatch on the side of the house and crawl ten feet in the (utter darkness at this point, with flashlight), under the house to figure out the right buttons to push to turn on the pump.
   And it's AFTER all this shenanigans, that we FINALLY sat down to enjoy our dinner, at which point we found ourselves looking at these meagre meagre portions. Fortunately we still had some leftover bland bland chinese food (it was so bland even now we didn't finish it and tossed the rest) and some other leftovers.
   OTHER than all these problems the house was nice, and right on the beach (though the ocean wasn't visible due to the sand ridge running parallel to the beach). Dad did go look at hte ocean and report back to us, mom and I just appreciated the sound of waves crashing from the house. Also mom saw a possum on the fence, which, since it froze when she shined the light on it (playing possum, as it were), we were able to approach closely and have a good look at. This one had a naked tail, I think it was a ring tail possum -- the only other possum here I've had a good look at was "Sancho" in my garage, who had a floofy tail and is, I believe, a brushy tailed possum.


I still think these things are uglier than American opossums

   And then we put the sheets on the beds and went to bed. The end (until tomorrow).

   I still don't know if the host did indeed charge us the $60 or waived it in a desperate attempt not to get the less than stellar review he was clearly headed for. And for that matter I'll have to check with mom if dad did indeed give him less than five stars -- dad can be tooo nice sometimes, and I think while I could have actually forgiven the lack of water as an unforseen circumstance if the host seemed like he'd done everytihng reasonable to ensure a good stay, calling $60 a "small fee" loses my assumption of good faith.

aggienaut: (Default)

   Legends of the Gunai People tell of a fearsome monster, like a giant man made of stone. Boomerangs and spears merely bounced off of him, and he'd prowl around at night and drag unwary travelers or children who wandered off away to its den to devour them. It sounds fearsome, though the only representation of the manxome foe google image search brings up is this decidedly dorky 1980s-eque monster.

   Meanwhile, this past Friday (the 17th), my parents and I woke up in a surprisingly decent motel in the town of Traralgon, and decided to head out for the den of the Nargun!



   Our route east took us first on the Princes Highway (which I note here is no longer the M1 but A1), which incidentally is the same highway that passes just close enough (but not too close) to my own village much further west. Then we headed onto smaller country roads and headed up north. As you can see on the map above there's a broad plain in this area that is I think one can say the heartland of Eastern Gippsland. I'm not sure I would have known how to get around this area without the ever trusty GPS but most of the small towns we passed through and other landmarks I recognized as having previously been to with my good friend Billie. She's from the town of Maffra you can see in the middle of the area in the above map.

   At the Den of Nargun, one is driving on a country road amid private paddocks and then quite suddenly one enters state forest and comes to a parking area with picnic benches. There was only one other car there. It was already rather warm (80?) and still only early in the day. There's informational signs mentioning the traditional beliefs about the Nargun. Among the Gunai People, we learn, the Den of Nargun was a sacred place and only women could go there, and, according to the sign, to this day men of Gunai descent respect that tradition and don't visit the site. That made me feel mildly guilty but if they really objected I suppose they'd have had the site closed down, as has happened with some other sacred sites (notably the famous Ayers Rock Uluru). Though their wishes aren't always exactly perfectly respected. Anyway here we were.



   From the picnic area one proceeds down a trail which very shortly is making a very steep descent into a narrow canyon. Down at the base one suddenly finds oneself amid a shady forest in which everything seems to be covered in moss or ferns (picture from previous visit). This is a relatively unique ecological refuge of relict plant biology from Gondwanaland the ancient south-hemisphere supercontinent. While down there we encountered the one other visitor, a bearded man by himself who was friendly, he was just about to start heading back up the canyon side when we came down.



   It's only a short walk up the valley to where the Den is. As we were walking I heard noises across the creek on the far side of the narrow canyon and spotted what looked like a large goanna (monitor lizard), I'd say it was at least three feet long. An informational sign said there were water dragons in the area so I suppose it was that. We saw (presumably the same lizard?) on the way back again as well.

   The Den of Nargun itself is a cave under a waterfall by a large pool. The waterfall was only barely flowing but the pond was as full as ever and cool and placid. I kicked off my flip flops and waded out into it, it was nice and refreshing.


Took this picture looking back towards my parents. Here's a picture from a previous visit looking from their location towards the waterfall.

   After enjoying the cool serenity of the Nargun Den Pool for a bit, we headed back out and up to the car. We though about eating as it was getting towards lunch time but decided to continue on to our next destination on the assumption it might be cooler there, as the day was already getting a bit warm.

   As we drove from there to our next destination, the Raymond Island ferry, we noted that now the outside temperature was getting up toward the mid 90s. Fortunately the AC in the car worked fine. "This is odd," dad pointed out looking at the weather app, "it says there will be thunder tonight but '0% chance of rain'."

   Arrived at the unfortunately named town of Paynesville and found there were picnic tables right on the shoreline. So we had our lunch there (cheese sandwiches as usual) and it was nice and not too hot. Walked to the ferry and realized I've been here too before, when I went boating with Billie and her friend the chancellor we boarded the boat here just beside where the ferry comes across.
   This is a small ferry that only holds about a dozen cars, and doesn't charge pedestrians or bicyclists. It goes back and forth across a (50 meter?) channel pulled by a chain (or mabye it pulls the chain? anyway its on a chain rather than using a propeller like a normal boat).



   So we ferried across to do the famous "koala walk" on Raymond Island. Walking around just among the several blocks nearest the ferry stop, even though there's as many houses as any old suburb, there's enough trees that it feels like a forest, and we saw maybe between 6-12 koalas sleeping in trees. For me the highlight though was actually an echidna we found snuffling along someone's front lawn. The creature, like a giant hedgehog with a cute proboscus-like nose, evidentally accustomed to tourists, hid its face for about a minute when we first approached and then got over it and jsut went about its business letting us get within feet of it taking picture. Neat.



   After this we took the ferry back to Paynesville, had ice cream, and proceeded on the two hour drive to our destination for this evening, an Airbnb in the town of Marlo (which I'd never heard of) on the coast two hours drive to the east, at the mouth of the Snowy River. After we'd passed the nearby town of Bairnsdale we were for the first time in new territory to me! I'd only been further east in Victoria briefly, when we went by boat to the town of Metung on the previously mentioned boating adventure, but soon we were past that town too!
   I definitely noticed that east of Lakes Entrance on the eastern side of the Gippsland Lakes (this giant lagoon), the populated part of Victoria seems to have ended. There's still a few towns out there but its not like Gippsland west of here with large swaths of farmland. It was beautiful country of forests and low intensity pasture land.

   Arrived at our bnb in the town of Marlo. This not a single residence like most Bnbs we've stayed in but a four unit "retreat" that was really nice. There was a pool and bbq area and almost uniquely for anywhere I've ever stayed I think, the other guests (families with kids) were very friendly and acted like we were all there together. It was a really nice place, would definitely recommend it for anyone headed that direction. The owners whom we met later were also really nice.

the pub as seen later when walking back past it after the sun had set

   Walked to the Marlo pub (called the Marlo Hotel of course). We'd called ahead to make a reservation even though it seemed like a small town, but the day before the first place we'd tried to go to, on a random Thursday in Traralgon was all reservationed up. Arriving at the Marlo pub and seeing all the cars parked out front I began to be nervous that there wouldn't be room (actually, writing this nearly a week later now, I remember being worried, but I thought I called in a reservation. Maybe I didn't? who knows). Anyway it was packed but it was a big place and I found us seats around a barrel by the rail on the edge of the back veranda, overlooking a lawn (with one random electric car charging station that was in use!), and beyond it the river, and forest covered hills on the far side.
   I held down this seat while my parents stood in line to order the food. I had identified a lamb tangine on the menu I thought looked really good and I think had re-stated my desire for that to my mom as she went to stand in line. Seeing a specials board I hadn't seen before I commented "oh they have a cubano sandwich" just as an observation. When my parents had ordered and joined me I learned dad had thought I had changed my mind and asked for a cubano sandwich. I actually don't terribly much like sandwiches in general and was getting a bit tired of the cheese sandwiches we were always having for lunch and had NOT intended to order a cubano sandwich so I was actually very disappointed by this but whats done is done so I did my best to act like it wasn't a big deal though I felt pretty disappointed. As luck would have it, when the sandwich came it was actually absolutely delicious. Altogether the pub seemed to have really good food and a really good atmosphere. Definitely recommend.



   As we were eating, we had a good view of where the sun was setting behind the hills across the river. Dark thunderheads were gathering in that direction and so the sunset was a beautiful combination of the golden glow of the sun breaking through and illuminating some clouds while around it the dark purple thunderheads loomed dramatically. As we finished our dinner there were smoe flickers of lightning over there, that ramped up to fairly constant flickers of lightning and soon many people were at the rail watching the show.
   After dinner it was a short walk across the lawn to some steps that lead down a short tree-covered slope to the road along the waterfront. It was still nice and warm, a lovely summer evening, and just down here where we now were on the waterfront (of the river) there was a narrow pier sticking out into the river and about half a dozen kids around 12ish were out there in their bathing suits enjoying jumping into the river. I reflected it was the kind of classic childhood moment they'll probably cherish in their memories forever (or perhaps one of many memories of doing so to be remembered in aggregate). The sun is setting around 8:30pm-ish around here these days and the sun was just setting. We watched the flickering horizon for awhile. Further down the river it looked like there were some adults out swimming or chilling in the water. As I said it was a warm summer evening.



   We walked back to our hotel. The other guests were still hanging out in the bbq area. Presently the lightning was all around us and we went out and watched for awhile as flashes lit up the sky all around us. Oddly there was hardly any sound of thunder, and only there merest smattering of rain.

aggienaut: (Default)

   Thursday-Sunday I was on another roadtrip adventure with my parents, this time to explore the east of this state (Victoria). I was even well on my way to contemporaneously posting updates, the first day having written up most of the day into an entry while in the car. But then at the end of the day when I went to finish it, livejournal prompted me to "restore from draft," which has never been a bad idea before. Even though I could see the top part of what I'd written on the screen behind the pop up window, if I clicked "no" maybe it would clear that. Anyway, it ended up restoring a previous already-posted entry and I compeltely lost everything I'd written. Back button didn't bring it back, it was all just gone. ): I absolutely hate re writing what I just wrote, so I was too demoralized to write it again, and then I couldn't update teh other days and have it out of order soo no field reports. But now I'm back home on my computer (and my parents are currently somewhere over the Pacific) and I'll have another hack at it.


(Day 1 travel)


   My across-the-street neighbor likes to go on vacation to a town called Mallacoota at the far eastern end of the state. Often while he's been giving me a haircut (which he does in exchange for honey), I've heard the virtues of this paradise extolled. By his account it is a wonderful place. Plus, it's the furthest East one can go in this state and I'm fond of crossing off goals such as visiting a places extremities. I've been to the Western border of the state. I've been as far south as one can drive in the state (it's an overnight hike to the furthest tip, which I'd absolutely lvoe to do but it's really really hard to get a booking for the campsite one must stay at to do so). The furthest north point I suspect is mainly hot and dry and boring but it's still on my list (though looking at a map I see that Mildura, to which I've been, is actually not far off, I suppose I can legitimately say in a general sense I've been to the north end of the state).
   But anyway, so I wanted to go to Mallacoota. My parents didn't seem sure we could make it in the short amount of time (four days) available, but we'd take it one day at a time and see how we went.


   So we set out around 9am bound for Walhalla in the mountains. It was my inclination to take the ferry across the bay as I usually do since I loathe driving in Melbourne. But dad pointed out that would take an hour longer. He's driving though so if he wants to drive through Melbourne... ::shrug::. As it happens, I usually avoid tollroads like the plague both on principal and because I don't know how to pay for them; and this causes me to have to slog through surface streets. The rental car had an account with the tollroads so we just stayed on the main highway, which becomes a tollroad and becomes a tunnel through the middle of the city before coming out and resuming being a normal highway. It was quick and painless!

   We decided to stop for a quick break in the town of Bunyip which was just off our route. When I was little we'd had a pet bunny named Bunyip, and as well mom has a friend who married a guy from this very town of Bunyip. The bunyip is a mythical Australian swamp monster. With a population of 3,000, this was a classic rural small town, with one grand old "hotel" (pub), brick, two stories, wraparound balcony on the second floor, classic style. It was hot (in the 80s?), we had some ice cream.

   From Bunyip to Walhalla was another hour and twenty minutes. First mostly along the flat lowlands until the town of Moe (an amusing name, pronounced "mo-ee" which makes it slightly less silly), and then we wound up into the mountains and forests of tall trees. While we were oohing and awing at the forest I reflected that the Otway Forest just beside my house is at least as nice but because it's practically in my back yard I tend to take it for granted and not ooh and aah at it as much as I perhaps would if I had to drive four hours to get to it.

   Walhalla is a cute little former mining town in the mountains. The classic gold rush era houses (restored and/or reconstructions in this case) sit in a very very narrow valley. There's a narrow gauge railway that runs a bit of a way through the valley which I was hoping we could ride but I didn't realize it's only currently operating Sat, Sun and Wednesday. The website listed the times it ran but hadn't indicated the limited number of days as far as I could find, so that was a disappointment. There's also a mine tour, which I was only mildly interested in, until I read about how a big machinery chamber had been hollowed out deep in the mountain and then I kind of wanted to see if, but if the tours had been available this day the last tour time was passed anyway.

   We lunch (cheese sandwiches w pickles) at a picnic table and then went walking along a scenic trail along the canyon wall. There were signs indicating the direction for "the amazing raCe." I was/am very curious if this was THE Amazing Race (the TV show) or just a local event that used the same name, if anyone happens to know if The Amazing Race has recently been through there? Along the trail there was various abandoned mine machinery, and several blocked off entrances to former mines. We also saw some interesting butterflies we later identified as wood whites, black cockatoos, a kookaburra, and a snake on the trail! The snake is believed to have been a copperhead (not the American copper head, but venomous itself). We encouraged it off the trail by tapping the ground near it with a stick and then edged past it.

   From there we proceeded back to the bridges across the Thompson river (the modern road bridge beside the old rail bridge), where a school group seemed to be endinga kayak trip.



   From there we headed back out of the mountains down to Traralgon. Traralgon is a larger town of 27,000. The origin of the name is officially unclear, but I think it sounds like the name of a dragon (the town of Yarragon which we passed through earlier, I posit is also a dragon, Traralgon's younger brother. It is unclear how dragons and bunyips get along). We decided to change it up here for dinner and get Thai (my parents are starting to catch on I think, that all Australian restaurants of "Australian cuisine" have the same six items on the menu and you eventually need to go to an ethnic restaurant for more variety). We were suspicious that no Thai persons seemed to be in evidence, the staff just being your typical bemulleted rural Australians, but the food was surprisingly good -- though my "Thai iced tea" had no cream in it, it was just an iced tea.

   We had just booked a motel here and I wasn't expecting much, being as from my experience Australian hotels are often at least one star less than they advertise themselves to be, but this one was actually surprisingly nice. I was expecting just a cheap motel but it was cozy and nicely appointed, with complementary little cookies and jams and things in the room. So if you're ever in Traralgon I recommend you stay at the Garden View Motel (no garden actually in evidence though).

Also Traralgon was a remarkably happening place on a Thursday night. Maybe because it was a pleasant warm summer evening, the outdoor dining areas of many restaurants were packed, many pedestrians strolling the downtown area, and a long line snaked out the door of an ice cream place.

And that was day one! From here it would only be four hours to Mallacoota BUT there didn't appear to be any lodging with vacancies there! Would we make it??

aggienaut: (Numbat)


Monday, July 16th - My parents, cousin Kateri and I departed the cheerful Gilded Drifter B & B Monday morning and drove through the sunny Sierra valleys to retrace our steps. Through the hills and vales, down into the broad mundane valley of Reno, back into narrow mountain valleys on the 395 and... amid wildfire smoke and the smell of burning chaparrel to Walker Burger for lunch! Just as absolutely delicious as on the way up!



   From there we proceeded on down to Mono Lake and this time went to see the Tufa Towers. Apparently they form where there were underwater springs, the minerals in the spring water immediately precipitating out their mineral contents on contact with the cooler fresh water to slowly over time form a stalagmite-like tower reaching up from the bottom. The previously mentioned extreme lowering of the level of Mono Lake by Los Angeles' thirst for water has exposed these formerly underwater tower formations.



   A significant problem with the reduction of the water level was that formerly isolated islands on the lake critical to migratory birds became accessible to coyotes and other land based predators. In this picture we are looking at an osprey nest ... which though dramatic is probably not one of the threatened bird species. Wait Mono Lake has no fish (too saline).. is this actually an osprey? Maybe it lives here while getting fish from the tributary streams? Hmmm mysterious.



   From there we proceeded to a volcanic crater just beside the lake getting a little lost on 4x4 tracks in our non-4x4 prius on the way. To our west toward the Sierras at this time there was a solid white wall of wildfire smoke that was steadily getting closer to us and was a bit concerning. We poked around the crater nontheless, there was cool obsidian. We then continued.
   We stopped again a little later at another cindercone just near mammoth. What can I say we really like volcanic rocks.


I have a particularly large number of scene setting photos because I was updating a certain Venezualan senorita on roadtrip progress ;)

   Also at this time, President Trump was in the process of making news for insulting our NATO allies pretty much as much as he could at a recent summit and then meeting with his bff Putin and saying that Putin says there's been no Russian meddling and that about settles it. The world we're living in!

   We once again stayed at the same hotel in Independance. Got pizza at one of the immediately prior towns (Big Pine?).

Tuesday, July 17th - We proceeded on south, stopping in the flat hot bland town of Lancaster (has anything interesting ever happened in Lancaster? Has it even been the setting for any exciting stories? It seems a thoroughly bland place), for a picnic lunch in a park. Then west along the foothills north of Los Angeles which were often covered in orange groves or other hearty slope-growing crops. Finally emerging on the Pacific coast and proceeding north among expensive beach houses with the occasional giant palm tree looming over them like a toilet brush. Finally we arrived in Santa Barbara to drop off Kateri at the suburban house where she and her boyfriend rent some rooms on the upper floor of a stucco suburban house. Also met her boyfriend, whom I hadn't met before but apparently my parents have. He seemed a swell fellow. Some of these cousins are surely due to start getting married soon. I hope so I do enjoy attending weddings.



   Also I at once recognized my grandmother's style in a painting on their wall that I haven't previously seen. I do so love her paintings. All the relatives have them all about their houses and its fun visiting relatives whose houses I've maybe never been to before and seeing previously unseen paintings by "mum-mum."


   From there we could have headed home inland through the heart of LA but instead, as apparently my parents have been in the habit of doing (they come out this way fairly frequently because mom's dad lives in neighboring Ventura county), we went down the Pacific Coast Highway. This iconic road winds right along the coast practically in the spray of waves in places. In Malibu we stopped at a sandwich place (actually a sandwich bar inside an upscale grocery story) they are in the habit of visiting on this route. I ordered a mammoth sandwich at this upscaley place and then had to gloat to my friends in Australia because at whatever it came out to ($7? $8?) you couldnt' even get a dogfood quality fastfood burger in Australia. And this at a fancy place in Malibu frequented by people any one of whom looked likely to be a celebrity I didn't recognize!

   From there we continued on down the coast before eventually turning inland somewhere in Los Angeles county and finshing up with a quick slog through the urban sprawl unil we finally got home. The End!


One more picture of Mono Lake just because I feel I need a picture here

   Okay, now I swear tomorrow you get day 1 of the trip to meet Cristina in Dominican Republic!! (: It seems appropriate in anticipation to tease out this photo of her on the plane on her own flight to the Dominican Republic!

aggienaut: (Numbat)
( Previously: Up the 395 from So Cal to Independence! )



July 13th - Upon waking up and emerging from our motel room we were greeted by a spectacular view of the nearby mountains. Because there were no restaurants in Independence we were obliged to backtrack half an hour to the larger town of Lone Pine. In glancing at the wiki entry for Independence just now I notice it's actually the Inyo County Seat, despite being described in that same entry as a "tiny village" with a population of 669. On the way back to Lone Pine I took the above picture as soon as I didn't have buildings obstructing my view.



   We ate at the Alabama Hills Cafe, a diner my parents have also come to be in the habit of stopping at on this route. They had many delicious looking things on the menu, including biscuits and gravy which I'd been longing for, but I actually ended up going for a dish, I forget what they called it but various things all sizzled up together in the griddle with a fried egg on top. Mom and dad both had pie like the total gangstas they are!! Kateri had some impressive stack of pancakes with strawberries that was on special and she got the last one much to the envy of a diner who later sat at the table beside us and tried to order it.
   The namesake of the diner, the nearby Alabama Hills are a rugged set of foothills distinct from the high Sierras behind them, that have been used as ambiguously rugged western terrain in a great many Western movies (there's a movie museum nearby we have also never been to). The Alabama Hills Cafe had a lot of pictures of the rock formations about which inspired us on a sort of whim to drive the loop road around the hills. We decided it was well worth doing as we wound through the picturesque rock formations. We even found what looked like an old movie-set mineshaft (any major western aficionados think they recognize it??)). On parts of it that were private property there were some very unique looking dwellings and I surmised that I bet at least one of them is on airbnb!



   From there we headed up north on the 395 again, in the sage filled valley between the jagged Sierras on our left and small mountains on our right (what's over there to the right? no one knows!). By and by we found ourselves in pine forest around the turnoff for Mammoth (do non Californians know about Mammoth? It's kind of like Yosemite but not -- famous for skiing but I've always been there for the beautiful forest hiking.) Near mammoth we turns off for the Hot Springs with every intention to go swimming in them. It was once again oven hot as we got out of the car there. I have fond memories of swimming in the hot springs here when I was wee but I guess one too many people boiled themselves alive by going in the parts you're not supposed to go into, because the old swimming holes were all fenced off and there didn't appear to be any current swimming opportunities. Nevertheless we walked along the picturesque stream a bit.



   Just north of Mammoth as one comes back down out of the tree line is Mono Lake, a hypersaline endorheic lake. We stopped into the visitor center there. The lake had been drained to half it's 1940s size by the 1990s by water being redirected to Los Angeles, which threatened many birds that depend upon the lake for migration and breeding. Since then conservation efforts have one a legal fight the water waterlevel is once again rising to reach an agreed upon minimal level. We visited the famous tufa tower formations on our way back south but I'll get to that when I get to that!



   North of Mono Lake we once again were winding through relatively narrow valleys. The next place worth mentioning is definitely WALKER BURGER. My parents had been advised of this place by my uncle's fiancee who apparently would some times come down this way, but during their Thanksgiving sojourns it had always been closed. Walker, it turns out, is an absolutely tiny town "census designated place," but this burger place is legit amaze. I had a half pound "western bacon burger" that was possibly worth driving all the way to this remote locality just for, as well as an extremely delicious shake. Everyone else was similarly pleased with their food. The outdoor seating area was really lovely and my pictures really don't do it justice, but it was like a pleasantly shaded garden with benches and a central grassy lawn, whimsical windmills, water features such as water pouring from one barrel to another to create that peaceful tinkling water noise. Really superbly lovely spot!

   From there we had to nick into Nevada near Reno, where I think we were no longer in a narrow desert valley and surrounded by more signs of civilization, but by now I was drifting in and out of sleep even though it was only late afternoon (but again,I was still suffering from jetlag!). Then we got back into the mountains just north of Tahoe. During moments of wakefulness I was aware of beautiful mountain valleys around us. Finally we pulled in to our destination town of Loyalton, with which a population of 769 is smaller than Birregurra. Our bed and breakfast was a beautiful Victorian house just on the outskirts called the Gilded Drifter (it's hard NOT to call it the Gilded Grifter though!). During the weekend our family would have the whole place booked out but on this first night it was just us (me, my parents and Kateri) and some strangers in the other rooms whom we only saw extremely briefly (I think there were two different couples who both arrived late at night). All the rooms were named after famous American authors of a level of obscurity that I didn't actually recognize any of their names but Kateri (again, an English major) did and was quite tickled by it. My favorite part about the place was that it had a really cute cozy little library room. In which I enjoyed to sit and read my book.
   Also it so happens that there was a flash fiction writing contest I intended to participate in and the topics were to be announced this very evening! I was very unsure I'd have time to write a flash fiction in the hubub of a busy weekend with the family but I was planning on giving it my best go. I checked my email and found that I had been assigned to write a romantic comedy set at a bus stop involving a chihuahua! Would I be able to accomplish such a thing in the next 55 hours??

aggienaut: (Numbat)

July 12th - "It's desert noir" I commented, as I snapped a photo of a ramshackle falling-down old house with junk around it, with Mt Whitney rising up behind it. Somewhere near the Manzanar internment camp.

   I'd only arrived in the states just the day before and already we were on an epic roadtrip! My uncle was getting (re)married in a small (tiny) town north of Lake Tahoe, which would have been probably a 10 hour direct drive up "the five" through the middle of California, but we decided to take two days to go up the east side of the Sierras. In fact this plan was a major selling point for me to come to California rather than go back to Africa at this time. Also my cousin Kateri would be joining us, I wasn't quite sure why, but maybe she liked the roadtrip idea as well!



   Because Kateri was coming from a different direction (Santa Barbara) we came up from Orange County to fetch her from a train station in the northern LA suburb of Van Nuys. This trip took us on different highways than we usually take and we actually found ourselves driving right through the middle of the cluster of skyscrapers at Los Angeles' dark heart. It took two or three hours to get through LA and we ended up arriving at the train station nearly an hour late... but by a stunning coincidence her train was also running about an hour late and we actually pulled up with just enough time to park and walk to the platform and greet her coming out!



   We ate at a nearby In-N-Out and then proceeded through the foothills that surround Los Angeles to the north and east. This route on the 14 through the hills I haven't taken in recent memory and its a much broader less dramatic valley than Tejon Pass which the 5 passes through. On the far side is the low flat town of Lancaster baking in the desert sun, and a little later amid the sage and yucca plants of the high desert there's a boeing facility, which looks like a huge international airport in the middle of nowhere, in terms of hte number of large jetliners parked there. Somewhere around there is also Mojave Spaceport. Then the 14 joins up with the 395 and as we head north the Sierras begin to rise up on our left. By and by we see more extinct cindercones and other evidence of ancient volcanic activity.


Kateri and mom at Fossil Falls

   Kateri, by the way, had just recently graduated from UC Santa Barbara as an English major. She's quite into writing, so we enjoyed talking about books and writing. I'm not quite sure why she has neglected to appear on livejournal, haunt of aspiring writers that it is! She quite prefers Young Adult books and writing, which is not quite exactly my favorite genre but still we had a lot to talk about.


Picturesque parking situation at Fossil Falls

   When I was wee we used to drive up this way to Mammoth every summer but I haven't made the drive since then, so it was fun to see the barely remembered sights along the way. At the base of a memorable large red cindercone we turned off on a turnoff for "Fossil Falls," to do a little sightseeing along the way. After a five minute little drive we parked at the trailhead and amid baking 100+ degree weather (which I was loving as I was still trying to thaw my bones from Australia) we took a short hike to fossil falls -- which is a formerly dramatic waterfall through very artistic looking curvy volcanic rocks. Formerly because now the water that fed it is entirely rerouted to supply Los Angeles.


Dad gazes into the abyss

   After about half an hour clambering about we were happy to get back in the air conditioned car and continue the journey. We passed the red cindercone (Which, melodramatically, had a large dust tornado in front of it as we went past), and despite the oven heat of moments earlier, soon rain was splattering across our windshield. A strange thing then happened: all of our phones suddenly started making an unusual alarmed warbling noise at once. Looking at my phone I saw I had "an emergency alert system alert" and it was a flash flood warning in our vicinity. Never had that happen before! Good to know the alert system works! We stopped in at the Mt Whitney visitor center at Lone Pine, it wasn't raining but clouds obscured Mt Whitney itself. Passed the Manzanar Internment Camp visitor center and it occurred to me that we've never stopped there and the present political climate makes it seem very apropos. Maybe next time.


just across the river

   At Independence, a tiny little town just up the road from the bigger Lone Pine, we checked into a small motel my parents have apparently made a habit of stopping at (Thanksiving apparently has often these last few years been at my uncle's place we were now headed towards, and my parents have been going up this 395 route to get there). This little town apparently has no restaurants except a semi-permanent mexican food truck (it was actually semi integrated into an old gas station), so we walked over there and I procured a delicious authentic burrito (exciting being as, despite everything that had happened in the previous 24 hours, I still had only just arrived from Australia and not yet had a decent burrito in a year!)
   After we ate we walked to a little park where there had been a steam locomotive, but it was gone, replaced by a sign noting it has been taken off somewhere else for repairs. By now it was evening and a pleasant temperature. A very pleasant babbling brook ran through the park and, crossing the river with a cute wooden bridge, a trail meandered out among the low sage that stretched out to the sheer wall of mountains. By the bridge there was a notice sign saying it could be dangerous around the river at times of flash flood and I noted that it was such a time -- we were in the dangerous intersection of the venn diagram. Needless to say we crossed the bridge and proceeded ti walk up the trail. There was that amazingly beautiful smell of fresh rain over sage desert. Even in the city the smell of fresh rain is famously delightful, but among the sage in the desert I think it's arguably one of the best smells in the world. Sure enough it was soon sprinkling, and the rain quickly got a bit heavier so we were thinking of turning back. I happened to glance behind me, and noticed a wall of grey obscuring the mountains approaching us. "uh, guys, look what's coming out way!" I pointed out the wall of heavy rain approaching to the rest of the family. We then more or less ran back down the trail, and it was coming down heavily already by the time we crossed the bridge. Spent the later evening sitting under the eaves of the motel reading my book as rain poured down around us, and the temperature still pleasant enough to be not wearing a jacket!


The wall of water approaches (on right!) also very slightly different version

::TO BE CONTINUED!::

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