Au revoir Melbourne

The temperature in Lyon today is a full 40 degrees lower than it was in Melbourne the day we returned from tropical Queensland. The following days we witnessed another graphic demonstration of Melbourne's wildly oscillating weather as the thermometer plummeted more than 20 degree. The next few days were decidedly chilly and forced me to dig socks, shoes and the single sweatshirts I'd brought out of the suitcase.

A couple of days after our return to Victoria, we decided to leave our hosts a little time and space of their own, and booked a couple of nights in the Grampians, which happily coincided with sunny and gradually warming weather. So it was that the 2nd Thursday of the new year, la bienheureuse, la belle-mère and I set off on the 3 hour drive and arrived in Halls Gap in time for a late lunch at the Brambuk Cultural Centre. Afterwards we drove up the twisting Mount Victory road for some sightseeing, starting with Mackenzie Falls. Impressive they were too, as was the climb down and back up from the base. On the way back to camp we stopped off at the Reed lookout to take in the views north and south across the northern Grampians, then had an early dinner in Halls Gap, viewed the grazing kangaroos on the sports oval, and finally retired for the night after a couple of commemorative games of Peanuthead.

Friday morning we set out early for a full day's sightseeing. Back up Mt Victory Rd to visit a succession of lookouts for a succession of stunning views. Boroka, for a panoramic view east, Reed again where we made the additional walk to the Balconies, then another stroll round the Zumsteins walk. Then we decided to venture further north for a bumpy ride to Ngamadjidj, one of the Aboriginal art sites in the area. Not quite as impressive as those we saw in Kakadu, but it was an enjoyable drive, enhanced by emu and kangaroo spotting, and finished off with delicious iced coffees and milkshakes. 

Next on the agenda was an evening watching traditional dancing at Bambruk, but we had time to take a round about route there via the Silverband falls and another pleasant walk in the forest. The Aboriginal dancing at the cultural centre turned out to have a large element of audience participation, much to the consternation of certain spectators. The troupe leader asked for volunteers, then when no hands were raised took much pleasure in nominating the victims. He eventually succeeded in getting everybody except some prim Italian ladies into the dance circle. A very enjoyable evening included a lesson on didgeridoo playing and a tasty stew dinner during the refreshment break. 

We decided to take the scenic route home, so early the following day we set off south and a bit west instead of east, and arrived at Cape Nelson lighthouse for a rather tasty lunch at the café. From there we wended our way east and joined the Great Ocean Road at the Warnambool end. Dodging (not entirely successfully) heavy rain showers, we managed to take in most of the viewpoints we didn't get to on our previous jaunt along the Great Ocean Road five years previously. The Bay of Islands, Bay of Martyrs, the Grotto, London Bridge and the Arch all received flying visits, before the approach of dusk forced us inland to take the fast road home.

We arrived back in Melbourne late in the evening where la cadette emerged from her cocoon upstairs in front of the spare TV and video, watching episodes of Friends for the hundredth time, to show us her birthday present. Intensive negotiations with her parents had rather miraculously (for both parties) transformed an iPod Touch into a tailless mouse named Kiko. The new arrival sent the previous centre of his mistress' affections, Snowy the budgerigar, into a hyperactive flurry of attention seeking. Pet birds can be jealous too. 

Our remaining four days down under passed all too quickly (and somewhat painfully in my case, afflicted by yet another back injury), filled with another trip to the cinema (Avatar or The Princess and the Frog according to viewing tastes), a drive south towards the Mornington peninsula to see and make sand sculptures at Frankston, an outing to Docklands for las sobrinas and la bienheureuse to try their hands at high wire walking, bungee trampolining, base jumping, trapeze swinging and jousting. La sobrina senior showed her usual poise and balance by excelling on the high wire, and la bienheureuse entertained with a couple of face plants off the trapeze swing. Great fun was had by all.

Alas Thursday the 21st arrived all too soon and it was time to bid a tearful goodbye. We miss them all dreadfully already. The trip home was long but smooth until we reached the car park at Lyon airport. Holding our breaths as I turned the key in the ignition did the trick, and the engine started more or less first time after surviving four weeks of snow and ice. We were home free. Or so we though. Resurfacing work in the car park meant the route to the exit was less than obvious and I found myself up a dead end. No problem, just reverse back and start again. Bang! Reverse? This old girl was not for reversing. The left rear brake seized up and refused to unlock. Nearly two hours later, with the help of the car park security man and the airport breakdown service, we eventually got on the road and safely made it home. Garage bill on Monday to replace shattered brake pads and ruined disc - 375 euros. An expensive decision to take the car rather than a taxi to the airport...