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Published: April 28th 2007
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Phillip, Helen, Max and Elle
All looking well as you can see! Rach... With Ian and the wheel of the Toyota, and me providing unerring navigation (mostly) we made for the Melbourne suburb of Mordialloc, where Ian’s Cousin Phillip, wife Helen, four year old Max, and little toddler Ella are temporarily based, having just moved back out here from their last home in the UK. Our visit had been negotiated by e-mail over the past few weeks, but a late afternoon phone call provided their ten minute warning before we descended on them with what must have looked like one hell of a lot of baggage for a three night stay.
They all seemed extremely well, and very relaxed for people who are to move into their new, permanent house in a couple of days’ time. Ella is one of the most smiling and contented todlers I have ever seen. She finds a vast range of things highly amusing, regardless of their nature. She also wiggles a lot. Max is extremely friendly and talkative. He is also rather sophisticated for a four year old, given that his favourite food is calamari, and he likes listening to Deep Purple. He seems to be baring with patience and fortitude the temporary unavailability
Ian doing the "Jilly" pose
This is what life's all about! of much of his toy collection, which is currently in storage. In fact, I think that Phillip is anticipating the reunion with the train set more keenly than Max. On our first afternoon together, we took a walk around the local park, then after the kids had dined and retired, the grown ups stayed up for a pasta supper and chats. Poor old Max had been evicted from his usual bedroom for us, and was bunking up with Ella. This did little to settle either of them (sorry Helen), and though Ian and I slept well that night, I’m not sure everybody did!
The following day, after lunch with all the family at the local seafood restaurant called Doyles, Ian and I headed off by ourselves on the train into downtown Melbourne for the first time. The mission was to find accommodation for our coming stay in the city centre, feed ourselves, and generally to gain a first insight on the city. Well, we reserved ourselves some apartments in the central business district, discovered a lovely wine bar called Syracuse, but reached conclusion in our ongoing debate:- which is better, Sydney or Melbourne.
The debate was adjourned the
Rachy doing the "Jilly" pose
This is what life's all about from her too! (sorry Jill) following day because we headed for the country. The Yarra Valley is Victoria’s wine growing area, and obligingly lies only an hour’s drive from the city. The weather was fine, and the folks at the various Cellar Doors which we visited were every bit as friendly as those we met in the Marlborough region on our earlier wine quest in New Zealand. However, in contrast to Marlborough, where we had travelled everywhere by bicycle, we saw Yarra from the car, which erased any element of health and fitness from the day’s activities. This was a disappointment for me, although probably equated to a bonus for Ian. Having said that, Ian chose to drive, and so was forced to spit out everything he tasted. On the positive side, we had a smashing lunch on the terrace at a winery called Oakridge, and Ian reckons that the Pinot Noirs in this part of the world are top notch. We bought a couple of bottles which are intended as presents for cousin Carol when we arrive in Perth next week, and subject to proper self control, she may even receive a bottle.
Back at the McCahy’s that evening we shared a bottle
of Riesling Eiswein from Oakridge. (In Europe, Eiswein is made when the little grapes remain on the vine into winter, frost comes and draws out the moisture, leaving only the concentrated juices to be pressed into the sweet and complex elixir which moves my dear husband to poetry, and then to the fridge for another glass. Over here, without cold winters, we have learned how the grapes have to be plunged into deep freeze at -10 degrees to achieve the same effect, which according to Ian, doesn’t really work. Mother Nature rewards us Europeans for having rotten weather, you see.)
Anyway, the next morning we bid au revoir to the McCahys, and left them to prepare for their big move to the new house at the weekend. We have seen pictures of the new place, and it is something to see. I am more envious then I can find words for. It’s a palace! My jealous revenge is to recommend to all the family to go and visit them without delay. (Or to hold on until they build the swimming pool…)
Ian seems to have picked up a bit of a bug from somewhere, and on the day
we left Mordialloc, he was experiencing giddiness which, for once, could not be attributed to his vino intake. This left me to drive the Toyota. It was my first time behind the wheel of an automatic vehicle. It was not remotely easy to drive, and I spent a lot of time with my left leg flailing about in search of a non-existent clutch pedal. Difficult as it was, Ian navigated tremendously, and although he currently has problems with balance - particularly whilst on the loo - his sense of direction and spatial relations is unimpaired, and we easily found the Hertz depot in the city. Left to our own devices these last few days in Melbourne, we have struggled to find the same civic good looks which Sydney has (and Ian has struggled to keep upright!) However, whilst there is a certain superficiality to Sydney’s night time vibe, Melbourne’s evening haunts seem altogether more authentic, more established, and genuinely more eclectic. Whilst Sydney has its colourful fish market, Melbourne has Victoria Market, offering not only fish, but all other forms of life, animal or vegetable, and endless isles of all sorts of everything edible or wearable besides.
Currently Melbourne’s trump card is the Comedy Festival. First we saw a performance by David O’Doherty, a young Irish comedian, who does stand up and sings songs with a little Casio Keyboard. He was great, and eclipsed the act we saw the following evening, Rich Hall, who is obviously much more famous, but seemed last night to be a bit uninspired and - at his own admission - jet lagged. Even so, he made us chuckle.
I will conclude the Melbourne blog now, as it will soon be time to meet the McCahys. We are to rendez-vous with Philip and Helen again this evening at a Japanese restaurant in town. Doubtless it will be another lovely night, although I will miss Max, as back in Mordialloc we really bonded over some rug-based escapades involving Thunderbirds One thru’ Four. In the morning Ian and I will catch a flight to Perth, which is not a short hop, and will involve a three hour time difference. Cousin Carol and Paul are forewarned and hopefully forearmed. It will be lovely to see them, and their remote corner of this big continent.
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Ian n Rach
Ian and Rachael
Widgety grubs
Paul says he's going to take us to the same resturant, so they may very well be on the menu! It's pissing it down here in Perth at the moment :-(