Alas, our next big adventure began with a very humbling negotiation of the inner workings of downtown Melbourne traffic on a Saturday morning. Having packed our sleek, silver Renault Megane with bags, maps, coolers, Pokemon cards and Nintendos – all the essentials for a successful odyssey with kids – we set out for a five hour drive east of Melbourne to Metung, a small lakeside community known as Victoria’s Riviera. Unfortunately, there was the small matter of negotiating our way around a huge Italian festival, 50 000 environmental protesters and the Santa Claus parade all blockading the downtown core and frustrating our best Mapquested efforts to “get outta town”! Eventually, we managed to expertly wind our way down to the right highway – actually tollway – without a single wrong turn and we were away. But only after calling the toll company people to pay our $4.85 on credit card over the phone for the toll we owed as a result of driving our rental car over 3kms of toll road without a transponder! This was perhaps not the start we were looking for!
Eventually, we got ourselves a significant way into the countryside and started to enjoy the gorgeous rolling hills of eastern Victoria, the green forests and farmland, and the opportunity to explore. The tandem of Carter on map, Darling behind the wheel and kids working the Nintendos in the back was once again working its magic and the kilometers began to stack up. A lunch/coffee/toilet break found us in Moe, a small town big enough for a drive thru McDonalds, an impressive Dinky car collection and a transplanted heritage town (think Black Creek Pioneer Village). It was also home to quite possibly one of the foulest public washrooms I have ever had the non-pleasure of experiencing. In Australia it is more standard for the men to pee against a communal stainless steel wall than it is to have your own personal urinal. For those of us who might succumb to the periodic bout of stage fright, this arrangement is no treat. There is also the added complication of never knowing quite where to stand and if I don’t know, the kids know even less. If in doubt one tries to stand as far away from the wall as possible. Of course, the prospect of finding soap and warm water is a bet the most fearless punter wouldn’t take. There are many times I have stumbled out of a public washroom in Oz gasping for breath, wishing I could shower, change my clothes, burn my clothes and then perhaps, the building. It’s enough to make you want to find a good tree or fire hydrant. Needless to say lunch just wasn’t the same.
Once back on the road we wound our way over endless hills and thrills travelling through a very lush and green part of Victoria that stood in stark contrast to our very dry Melbourne. The driving was easy and quite fun and I was finally behind the wheel of my first automatic transmission. Changing gears was no longer part of the collective driving equation which eliminated those awkward moments of stalling my way through a roundabout with the wipers going. In our sporty mid-size Renault we zipped along in style though I imagined a nice little BMW coupe would be a whole heck of a lot more fun.
Soon we were slowing down for signs that said Metung and the smell in the air told us we were close to the sea. Metung is in an area of inland saltwater lakes that are protected from the ocean and created by a ninety mile spit of beach that is apparently the second longest piece of beach in the world. This beach creates a natural inland waterway and there are miles and miles of communities and little harbours that dot the area. Metung is one of the more picturesque in the area and is the vacation home of Simon Davies’ family.
We stayed at a resort called Moorings at Metung which was a series of very comfortable condo-style units complete with pools, spa, tennis courts and all of the amenities of a very nice home. After making ourselves comfortable and doing some serious work in the pool we headed out for dinner to the local pub/hotel/club known as the Metung Hotel. This might have been one of the best meals we had all trip and we were all in great spirits. It seemed like half the town was having dinner with us. We sampled the local wine, we ate gorgeous salmon, and we enjoyed the fact that we were once again together as a family exploring and sharing every dirty bathroom and beautiful meal the road and country had to offer.
NB – A final note must be made about our new “friend” – the Australian Bush fly – who accompanied us throughout this most recent journey. In Canada we have our mosquitoes, black flies, horse flies, etc. and they can be a right royal pain in wherever they choose to pester you. However, Australia is unlucky enough to have a fly far more insidious than any of those bloodsuckers. And where there is a definite time or place for our flies (IE swamps at dusk) the Australian fly is here, there, and everywhere all the time. Smaller than a common house fly but similar in appearance; this fly doesn’t even bite you. It does something far worse – it simply bugs you. You never find any mention of the flies in any tourist information. It’s like the Aussies don’t even know it exists. There have been times where I have been standing in a group of people trying to club 3 or 4 of the little bastards out of the air and the people beside me haven’t batted an eyelid or raised a hand. In fact, the Australians have this sort of official swat that involves the slow and deliberate waving of your hand three times across the front of your face that they lovingly call the “Australian wave”. You see people everywhere walking down the street or sitting in cafes and suddenly there it is – swish, swish, swish. The Aussie wave. Incredibly it works and is far more cool than the sort of irate rain dance that I have invoked. I am perfecting my salute as we speak. And I need to ‘cause they’re everywhere! I went for what I thought would be a pleasant stroll on the beach near our condo in Metung for 5 minutes and was chased indoors by a storm of flies that would have made Alfred Hitchcock proud. What’s the real kicker with these guys is that they try to get in your nose, eyes and ears. They want to get in there. They have to get in there, in order to breed or eat or some God awful thing!. And they are often successful at getting in there!!!!! Ahhhhh! We are in the middle of the fly season in Melbourne and I honestly have to say that the fly factor is enough to challenge this burg’s reputation as the world’s most liveable city. There may be flies on some of you guys, but there are definitely flies on us!
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