Scone

 We walked up to Mariner's Outlook today. What you can be pretty sure of, is that no one walked to Mariner's Outlook last night. Not even the hardiest of mariners. Thunder, lightening, driving rain and howling gales tore along this coast all night. 

In short, we had the gorgeous squidgyness of rain prophesied in the previous evening's news.

The fact that it had settled down in the morning prompted us to get togged up and set off to Mariner's Outlook as soon as we could. More unpleasantness had been promised, weather wise. The climb of 1,000ish feet was supposed to take two hours, there and back, so we were pleased to do it in half the time and be back in Apollo Bay for 10am even if coffee was therefore a whole hour too soon. We got over it. 

Then the weather closed in and we thought that was it for the day. It seems that the noble art of predicting the weather is as elusive down under as it is in the UK. True, there were squalls, but nothing compared to what was thrown at us last night.

After a spot of lunch, we set off again. This time in the car. We were off to the southern most part of the Australian mainland. I don't know why that's so important. Perhaps it isn't to some people but it must be to many because there's always a big fuss made. It could be Land's End, John 'o Groats, Tierre del Fuego or, in this case, Cape Otway. The cynic would argue that a fuss is made so that money can be extorted from us all. But even the thoughts of being ripped off doesn't stop most of us. Take Cape Otway for example: The only thing there of any significance is a lighthouse. It even sells itself as "The Most Significant Lighthouse". It costs you to move on from the car park. We are told that the price is slightly reduced because the lighthouse is currently off limits. Yet still, we are desperate to pay our $10 each to be allowed to go to the lighthouse that we're not allowed to. The weather was utterly wild. With nothing to protect the audacious slither of land sticking out into the southern sea, the wind ripped through without bothering to go round anything, ourselves included. (Yesterday, we bought base layers. We hadn't anticipated the need for them when we were at home.)

BUT, there is a redeeming factor which makes everything OK. The presence of a café. Not only a café, but one renowned for its scones. What was I to do? You can't go to the southern most part of a country and not partake of a scone. So I partook. 

That's my evening meal sorted! What a whopper. The scone was a sort of loaf. Kate said she'd come to my aid but it was a desperately poor attempt to help. (Gluten intolerance being offered as a feeble excuse)

As we staggered from the café, we came across a Wallaby. Smaller, browner and shorter eared than a kangaroo, it stood there munching grass. It didn't move until I was a few feet away from it, meaning I just about got a photo of it, mid boing.

We are now back in our enormous three bedroom house with decking that covers a larger square footage than our entire house. The six o' clock news has been watched and we are bushed. 

Lots more to do tomorrow. The fun never stops. The question is, can we stick the pace?

Up at Mariner's Outlook
Likewise 
Coffee in the surfer vibe of Apollo Bay
Tinnies, from here on, lads.
Just one of our capacious patios...
Pointy bit at the bottom of Australia. 
Off limits lighthouse 
It has to be done
View from the right side of the glass, as my Dad would say...
I'm still taking no chances.
Wallaby. 
Wallaby mid boing
Unusual looking stripped trees. It reminded us of the scene in the Lion King where those naughty hyenas have taken control of the land...


Comments

  1. Looks fantastic- like Whitby on a good day!! What a multitude of questions have you posed for us there. What do Aussies call scones - scones or scons?? And being down under …. jam or cream first?? Decisions, decisions? 😀

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