This was to be an unusual Mother’s Day.
Firstly, because Joan would usually spend it either with a mother or a son. Both were many kilometres away.
Secondly, because it was punctuated by some quirky, comical and anxious moments. All of course with the best of intentions in mind
We rose early as we needed to be at the Queenscliff Ferry Terminal by 8.15am. We were using the ferry as a way of avoiding Melbourne and sticking to our plan of travelling as much as possible along the coast.
Boarding the ferry was easy, peasy. Drive on one end, cross the bay and drive off the other end. Nothing complicated. We enjoyed coffee and a Danish in the lounge as we crossed and were entertained by a pod of dolphins surfing the bow wave.
Once off the ferry we drove along the coast where we saw the equivalent version of the Nelson river boat sheds only these were beach side. Like those in Nelson these are steeped in history and share a similar fate.
Market gardens lined both sides of the road for many kilometres and of course more dairy farms. We are amused by
the cow underpasses in many of the dairying zones. Are these to protect the cows from us or vice versa?
Greg was keeping his eye out for wineries as some entertainment for Mother’s Day. We were sure there must be some somewhere. Eventually we came across a series of signs pointing to wineries. One as close as 2km and others up to 12. Unperturbed by the obviously narrow and hilly road Greg took the challenge. We drove for about 12 kms without seeing a single vineyard nor anything that looked like a winery. Eventually we decided this endeavor was proving fruitless so we found a rather precarious spot to do a u-turn, and defeated headed back to the main road. A couple of km back we saw a sign on a side road saying winery 5km towards the main road, this on the exact road we had just driven. Joan might be blind but even Greg agreed he could not see anything that remotely resembled a vineyard or winery.
In the meantime, Joan had been distracted by a lovely Mother’s Day call from Tristan and Zoe.
Much further on a sign promising wine and cheese tasting caught
Greg’s attention. This looked more promising as we could actually see vines and the tasting rooms from the main road. Only problem was the gate way was very narrow and the parking somewhat limited so Greg sent Joan in to investigate. Verdict. No way would we be able to turn around to get out. So, there we were on another narrow road with no where to go and nowhere to turn around. Fortunately, there was a driveway almost opposite the winery entrance so skillfully Greg backed up that driveway and managed to turn around. End result … no wine tasting on Mother’s Day.
And all this before lunch which was had in a Power nap road side stop where we called Gwen and wished her a happy Mother’s Day.
For this night Greg had chosen a caravan park in Port Albert. Never heard of it? Neither had we. Once again off the beaten track but in keeping with our coastal drive policy of this trip. If we thought the Kingston Caravan Park was empty, we were wrong. The manager was surprised to see us and said we could choose any site we like as there was only 1
other van there. The place was rather divey. But if you don’t pay much, you really can’t expect much.
The first thing we always do when we pull into a site is connect the power. When we did this everything came on as usual except the fridge. The control panel went crazy with all the lights flashing and making a clicking sound, sometimes fast and sometimes a little slower. This we were sure was not good. As the utilities connection had seemed a little dodgy we moved to one of the other many empty sites. A similar thing happened, but eventually after much fiddling we managed to get it to settle and behave itself. Phew!
From dusk, frogs croaked, cows mooed, dogs barked and water birds screeched. The night was chilly but we were snug in our bed.
In the morning we thought we heard gun shots not far away but as we drove out a large rubbish fire was burning and we think it might have been green leaves and branches exploding.
Another one of those memorable places. But possibly for all the wrong reasons
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