Sun on my face, wind in my hair, a beach… life is bliss

A picturesque view on the Great Ocean Road

A frisky breeze toyed with the frost-like tipped waves and chilled my face while the hot rays of the sun played tag with the breeze, warming my face.  The chatter of voices zipped like seagulls on the breeze over the crashing drums of the ocean. An ocean so blue slipped out to the horizon but seeing people on the beach so far below distracted my ocean-gazing.

We were at Gibson’s Steps. Just a few steps and we could be strolling on the sand; right at ocean, and  wave, level.  No clouds hiding the sun means more sunscreen, yay. Just a few steps though, right?

Only a few steps up or down, eh?

Narrow steps carved into the cliff side lead the way down. Careful, don’t catch yourself (or clothing) on the chipped, gouged rock wall. The sharp edges were grasping, waiting to startle someone. Once at the bottom, on the beach I glanced back up. And it turns out the top is a ways up, a dramatic finish of cliff against the open blue sky.

The beach at Gibson's Steps

After a meandering stroll on the beach we charged back up the steps, which aren’t made for two-way traffic by the way. No worries though the camera didn’t get scratched. Still, what a view.

The arrival of several tour buses loaded with people prompted us to find our car and continue on to the last stops on the Great Ocean Road. The cacophony of multiple languages bombarded our ears and faded away as they too descended Gibson’s Steps.

A slight jog down the road and we stopped to see the 12 Apostles. Only a few remain now while the rest succumbed and now rest beneath the waves; time, the sea salt air and waves having worn them down. After hearing hubs talk about the sights, seeing it on Google (or postcards) doesn’t do the vista, or personal impact, justice. The feel of light, stinging wisps on the face from the sea salt in the air or the bass thumping of the waves trying to match your heartbeat.

The parking lot for this stop was quite a ways away from the actual trail and viewing decks. A wide, gently sloping paved trail led us under the highway via a tunnel (less pedestrian accidents that way I suppose) and to the gravel trails. Some people were hoofing it, really cruising down the trail to see the apostles. Others, as we found out, traveled at a snail’s pace in the arctic in molasses. Yes, they really were that slow.

Thankfully the majority of tourists were Asian and slight of stature. So we could see the view despite the crowds thronging along the trails and viewing decks. What a picture.

The remaining few of the 12 Apostles

 We played the tourist role to the hilt and stopped at every point or sight that had signage. Some were ‘meh’ or just interesting. The tide being out meant, apparently, some stops were less interesting. Our last stop was the Bay of Martyrs. At this point the sun was beginning to start its afternoon descent, the day had warmed up considerable and the strong winds had worked the waves up. 

The Bay of Martyrs

A haze had crept in over the various rocks standing strong up from the ocean in the bay. Trying to take a decent photo was  a challenge with the sun staring right back at you through the haze. It would have been better to stop in the morning light to view the bay at its best. Such was our route though that it was our last stop.

London Bridge... that has fallen

What a tour though. The Great Ocean Road was a pleasant drive with fantastic views. It’s the worth the travel time to get there.

May your week start off warm, cozy and with a cuppa coffee or tea. Despite those blustery winds and snow.

Going Down Under

A serene gem of a hideway

First off, happy belated New Year’s! Yeah, I know, only almost a month late with that one. But really it couldn’t be helped. Being sixteen hours ahead of your accustomed time zone throws quite the wrench into blogging. What really twisted up all the motivation and excitement for blogging on the road was the size of my cell phone screen. Compared to my laptop it’s a wee bit smaller and typing more than a tweet’s allotted characters… I couldn’t decide if my thumbs wore out or the frustration of misspelling (from true error or simply tapping the wrong, miniscule letter) many, many times made the idea of bite-sized posts so appealing.

For sure and for certain I had thought that there would be coffee cafes aplenty, those jewels of a city that sell amazing, if not at a minimum, decent coffee. Where the wi-fi would be plenty and easily logged on to. Hmm. Partly due to our travels and partly due to the lack of being native, cafes were aplenty but the coffee not so much and the wifi was like a rare sun dog. Clearly, we didn’t venture far off enough off the main roads to find those hidden gems.

Since hubs has been Down Under before his phone was gifted with the little chip of all-knowing goodness and data allowance. Mine was a paper weight in my purse, kept alive (turned on) for any quick, inspired photo that I hoped wasn’t blurry. So I apologize that the posts haven’t been weekly like I had envisioned and sparse. One, I’ll admit it, I got one posted. Yikes.

Of course, going to Australia means you fly. I like flying; I don’t get too stressed out once we’re passed the whole take-off and landing phases. What you don’t realize is when the tickets indicate you’ll be flying for 10 plus hours, they’re serious. Silly me, I thought ‘oh, I drive seven hours one way going home so this won’t be too bad.’ Ha. Ha. Ha.

Mt. Fuji as we passed by

The difference between driving and flying is that you commandeer the vehicle and can make it stop for a nice long stretch and/or walking break. Flying, well, you’re basically cargo that pays good money. And stretching has to be done carefully so you’re not punching hubs near the eye with your elbow or tripping a stewardess. At least I packed an eye patch thingie and ear plugs so sleep could at least be tempted, if I didn’t pass out from sheer exhaustion first.

Aussie farmland as we began the descent

When we woke from a decent sleep, on the last flight of our journey, on Aussie time, there were few clouds so we could see Australia from above. The outback has a certain appeal from the air but very empty. Unfortunately we didn’t think to get our camera out until we were close to landing. It was pretty cool to fly down the middle of Australia and see it change the farther we went.

Hubs and me with the friend's dog, Flash. Photo credit: Stuart

 

That first step outside the airport, it looks like any other city. As we drove with our friends, the landscape was ‘wow.’ We truly were Down Under.

 

Countryside view. Note how the trees are farmed around.

May your week be filled with family, friends and thoughts of summer time.

What no one tells you about the holidays

Clearly a big little snow

The holidays aka Christmas are a time of family, shopping, baking and radio stations stuck on repeat. There’s snow, maybe some big snowmen and ice skating. And there may or may not be hockey (typical winter sport right?).

What no one tells you about the holidays:

                Snow, no snow, big snow, little snow

                All the cleaning!

                Don’t lose your kittens

                Eating too much good food

                New Year’s resolutions are right around the corner

Okay, so December typically has snow right?! We had some snow but a warm snap melted most of it. I got so excited last night that there was a big snow system on the edge of the radar and coming our way. This crazy thought popped in my mind that I should prolong the blog writing until morning and post some good snow photos too. Yeah… that didn’t quite happen like I’d thought. The snow this morning was a little snow, mini snowflakes that danced and leaped as they fell from the foggy sky.

While I was anticipating the snow hubs was eagerly cleaning the house. Now, this phenomenon had started while I was finishing harvest in SoDak with dad. I don’t know how to explain hubs’ atypical behavior other than he likes things organized and tidy. Now when I say hubs was cleaning, I mean he was digging into closets, sorting through the cupboards (lucky for him, I’d been waiting for such a time to get rid of a few things) and prowling the garage. He even sorted through the unending collection of jackets he collects, much like those ball cap collections every farmer has. 

No, he didn’t even glance at the closet that holds his zippered hoodie jackets; claiming that he’s always cold so he has to keep them.  You’d think I’d asked him to shave an eyebrow from the look he gave me. Ah well, he was so industrious that I couldn’t force a downsize on those hoodie jackets. He and Scooter quickly volunteered to take the new donations to the local thrift store; he even cleaned the shop (!) and took a truck load to the dump and recycling center.

All his hard work and energy was repaid with a new rawhide and those bacon jerky strips he loves. Scooter never passes up opportunities for treats. Hubs got an apple pie and homemade whipped cream.

Farmer modified, forget the hand crank bolts

Don’t lose your kittens. I know it’s hard because cats are difficult creatures to herd and they’re always right there to trip you up on the pretense of showing affection (and leaving hair on your pants). The middle of the week was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, above freezing in other words. So he decides to let the kittens out of the shop to play outside and sunbathe. At lunch time he comes in with a worried look. He’d lost the kittens. 

Three of these kittens we’d gotten young and had to bottle feed them. The other two had only been with us a short month. After all the hard work and time we’d put into these little buggers we didn’t want them to disappear on us. Hubs and Scooter, who was a terrible tracker with his nose, tramped the wind break for an hour before finding the kittens. Kittens who were happily playing in a set of tires stacked behind the machine shed. Scooter, the silly pup, didn’t see them until hubs pointed them out. Crunchy leaves, sticks and trees oh my were apparently such fun to tramp through and pounce on. Herding cats are tough but hanging on to squirming kittens with claws is a challenge.

Chow time is the war for food

As with any holiday, good food abounds. It seems as if there’s always a turkey or ham to be found and the traditional accompanying sides. If you’re really fortunate though, there’s lutefisk (boiled, not baked, to perfection) with melted butter to drizzle over it, perhaps rumegrot (a warm, sweet custard), lefse (a delicate and thin potato bread that’s spread with butter and dusted with cinnamon sugar; and maybe a few non-standard cookies like krumkake (a rolled, fluted almond flavored cookie) or rosettes (a delicate, deep-fried cookie and gently doused in sugar for a frosted look). I do miss lefse as the one attempt (so far) to make it gluten-free was a dismal failure. It ended up more like mini pancake sizes than the big pizza pan size, before it’s folded and cut into smaller serving sizes. I steal a bite from hubs when he gets a piece.

Scooter watching tv & the dog in the movie

Of course, the New Year and typical resolutions quickly follow the Christmas holiday. But does anyone really think of their resolutions (current or new to come) during the holiday? I know I don’t. I usually forget about whatever I had resolved to do by March. Unfortunately that elephant-like memory kicks in January 1 about what my previous resolution was. Usually it’s a good effort on the ‘x’ resolution; I can’t even tell you right now what this year’s is. Maybe it was a resolution not to have a resolution. An easy win, eh?

 

May your holiday shopping be enjoyable, the presents hidden (or under the tree), and your snowman building skills on point.