While Not Working

I had to go to the dentist as one does periodically, to ensure one's feelings of wealth are adequately controlled.  It was a hot day, well over 35C and humid.  I decided to drive the car to the dentist, rather than riding my bike. The dentist and I had a convivial meeting, at the end of which she presented me with a plan describing all the ways I could spend money on my ageing teeth.  I drove off along busy Port Road, spitting and spluttering at the cacky taste of fluoride treatment in my mouth, and thanking my lucky stars that I hadn't ridden my bicycle in the sizzling heat.  Look at me, turning into a South Australian and whinging about one 30C+ day. Christmas is coming, dentist or no dentist.  There I was, driving along Port Road minding my own business and contemplating dental expenses and all of a sudden alarms pinged, lights flashed, and the car displayed messages to the effect that I had a Problem With Battery or Electrics. Being a responsible car driver,...

We stayed in a unit in North Adelaide. It was a little tatty around the edges but it met the necessary requirements and as a bonus it was slap bang in the middle of North Adelaide where I hadn't yet had a chance to explore. North Adelaide, as it turned out, was dripping with beautiful old buildings from Adelaide's earliest days.  I spoke to the lady trimming shrubbery outside Carclew House , and she very kindly let me come inside and look at the grand staircase and the ballroom. On the way back down the hill I found St Peter's Cathedral .  Normally I would have been able to go inside but sadly it was closed to the public due to rehearsals for a school Christmas concert, so I had to content myself with peering in through the barred doors and prowling around outside like a true cathedral stalker. When I got back to the unit I discovered that the lounge room curtain had parted company with the ceiling. The girl on reception wasn't too worried about it: "Just don't...

Tasmania turned on sunshine for our last day, just to prove that it was possible. We didn't have to get up early after all. Instead we took full advantage of the late check-out, spending some time commiserating with a forlorn Spanish couple who had taken delivery of their camper van and promptly crashed into another car while avoiding an animal. They were having a decidedly expensive and not enjoyable start to their holiday, and sunshine or the lack thereof was the least of their worries. Having finally left the hotel we set up camp at the airport, sampling airport lunch and watching airport activities (planes go up, planes go down). People came and went. I walked the length of Hobart Airport and back again, all 4 (sorry, 6) gates of it. Eventually we wandered out across the tarmac and got on a plane. I had a window seat this time, allowing me to take lots of photos of dubious quality and to spend the flight with my nose squashed against the window, picking out landmarks down below...

The clouds lifted as we left the cabin in Lemana and made our way across the Tamar Valley towards the mountains. Along the way we stopped in Perth just because we could and because it wasn't Perth, WA. A quick hello to some rather wooden friends in Perth. Clouds rolled over the tops of the mountains we were heading towards, causing debate as to whether we would actually be able to see anything from up there.  There was only one way to find out, so onwards we went. As the road began to climb I saw the results of yesterday's inclement weather. Drifts of gravel, rocks, and occasional small logs showed where water had overflowed the gutters and taken the easiest path across the road. Water still tumbled in rivulets down the rocks, poured out of crevices in cuttings, formed impromptu cataracts down the hillside, and pooled in every available depression. Half way up the hill we stopped in to Poatina, another once-was Hydro town now a shell of its former self, clinging to precarious l...