While Not Working

Given the unlikely combination of a weekend with good weather (which in Melbourne meant not raining and with snatches of sunshine) we did something most unusual for ourselves, and went cycling. On Saturday I took Roger out along the Djeering Trail and beside Dandenong Creek to the sea, regaling him all the while with tales of pouring rain, blistering headwinds, and hypothermia on the train. We pedaled in bright sunshine under a benevolent blue sky festooned with fluffy white clouds, and I got the distinct feeling that he didn't appreciate how cold and wet my previous Djeering Trail adventures had been. The trail had quite a different feel when riding in the sunshine and with an engineer. We munched our lunch in a park with a good view of the elevated railway. We stopped and took photos (lots of photos!) of the guide posts, and one of us may have been quite critical of the excessive use of reflectors. Not to mention the excessive use of yellow rolling things in guard rails, and the

We went back to the bathing boxes while the sun was still shining.  We walked the length of the beach and took photos, generally acting like all the other tourists who were doing the same thing. Some of the bathing boxes were in use and very salubrious they were too. A gentleman lolled comfortably in his cane chair, wine bottle and glasses on the table beside him and classical music wafting from his portable speakers. He steadfastly ignored the tourists traipsing past his open bathing-box doors and acted as if the beach before him was magnificently empty.  A little further along a happy group had fenced off the patch of beach immediately in front of their box and sat at a formal dining table with (again) wineglasses and napkins and all the accoutrements of a very civilised dining room and not a beach full of people intent on furthering their Instagram reach. Just so you know, the Brighton bathing boxes are actually at Dendy beach, not Brighton at all, but we're not going to get too

Roger and the BD lollygagged in Warrnambool, going sightseeing in between car picnics, visiting friends, and conducting quality assessments at local bakeries.  Windy in Warrnambool.  Time to check out another bakery. I got on my bike again, having discovered that the Frankstone line which allegedly ended in Frankston didn't really do so. It just became the Stoney Point line and downgraded from a swanky electric train to a diesel rail motor which chugged all the way to Stoney Point on the business side of the Mornington Peninsula. I was overtaken by the desire to ride to Stoney Point and catch the train home, thereby riding the entire line in both modes (train and bicycle) and planting the seed of a desire to ride the entire Melbourne Myki network. By train that is, not by bike, although now I come to think of it... I brought a set of warm clothes in a waterproof bag, having learnt my lesson yesterday regarding cold wet clothing.  The faux countryside started right off the bat in Fr

"I've got a party in Camperdown," said BD. "I've got an old friend in Warrnambool!" exclaimed Roger. "Let's go for a road trip!" they harmonised, and off they went without a backward glance, leaving me on my ownsome to do dog duty. I woke the dogs up early for a quick walk, and then I packed my bike and caught the train to Caulfield and the start of the Djeering Trail.  The Djeering Trail followed the train line all the way to Yarraman Station, with minor hiccups where it abruptly changed sides and names just to stop me from going to sleep. Let's go!   The riding was of a civilised nature: flat and congenial with regular collections of convenient coffee shops and elevated railways which provided shelter from the rain. I pedaled through graffiti gullies, and past the rusty remnants of industry. Rain started to fall. My raincoat kept me dry on the outside and hot and sweaty on the inside, so I took it off and rode in the rain which was very