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| Me & Bob Menzies |
We didn't get away from home until 12.30pm then only made it as far as the fire station before I realised I hadn't packed my Ventolin which I rarely use any more but much like a hanky, if you don't have one you're sure to need one so back we went. That then saw us approaching the local Maccas at around 1.00pm which drove home the reality that the first stopping spot on the motorway was a good two hours hence and far too close to the dinner I was looking forward to. Mindful of the diabetic implications of not eating fairly regularly we went - Maccas do have a few healthier options these days.
The first hour of motorway driving reminded me
of a Mad Max movie, or at least the only one I've even seen from back before
Mel Gibson completed his metamorphosis into a complete and utter prick. The road was thick with trucks, semis and
B-doubles, which had me wondering if I really wanted to go to Canberra but an
hour along it thinned out and I began to enjoy the verdant green countryside
and the masses of new dams, ponds and just plain overflows that have sprung
into existence as if by magic if not a bloody lot of rain.
That's when Hume came into our lives, so named
because it was the Hume Motorway that he was attempting to cross, a decision
that would almost certainly see him discharged from his own existence. All the surface water and new
aqua-environments had moved Hume to go exploring which is exactly what
Eastern Long-Necked Turtles do when things get moist or dry.
I was travelling at 110 with the rest of the Mad
Maxes and Maxines whizzing by considerable faster than that so it took about a
kilometre to safely pull over. I then
reversed a few hundred metres in the breakdown lane whilst getting blasted by
passing behemoths before getting out and power-walking the rest of the way
since running is never an option. And
there was Hume, straddling the white line between the breakdown lane and the
outside lane on his was to absolute oblivion.
I snatched him out of the path of a Woolworth the Fresh Food People
B-dub which was clearly intent at living up to its corporate slogan by
delivering its cargo so quickly that it would arrive at its destination before
it left its point of origin.
Hume was safe and possibly even as grateful as a
turtle can be although he did to a stinky-piss which is an Eastern Long-Neck's
one and only method of defense. Once
back at the car we popped him into my faithful BYO wine carrier which I never
travel without and continued on our way while Hume hit us with another
stinky-piss so we wouldn't forget that he was there.
The search was now on for a safe and permanent
waterhole, there being a good many that were neither. Thanks to us an DeDe the Subaru, Hume has now
migrated beyond the range his short legs would have otherwise taken him but
still well within the range of his species.
He is now safe and sound in the wetland surrounding Rowes Lagoon near
Collector.
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| Relocating Hume |
So on we rolled, pleased that the Universe had
seen fit to provide us with an ever increasing set of obstacles that morning
which ultimately caused our path to intersect with Hume's in a non-flattening
way. But there was more to come - a
roadside echidna by Lake George. That
required two u-turns with a backtrack of several kilometres in between and me
all the while wishing I and moved my echidna relocating device (leather
gardening gloves) from the old car to the new but being moderately confident
that the towel I'd thrown in the back as an afterthought would somehow
suffice. But it was not needed. Another slow crawl along another breakdown
lane revealed that George the Echidna had turned tail and headed back down
towards the lake which, being intermittent as it is, is currently in the process
of again becoming actually lake-like for the first time in a decade or more.
Our various delays saw us roll quite
fortuitously into Anne's Ainslie driveway just seconds behind her. She'd planned to be home hours earlier but
found herself taking a friend to the doctor and then on to hospital which put
us all back into realignment.
Canberra Tucker Tip #1
It was
great to catch up with Anne and Cassie the Staffy who looks like a Hairy-Nosed
Wombat then celebrate my 62nd birthday at Timmy's in Manuka which is my
favorite restaurant in the entire world.
There is nothing overly flash about Timmy's, especially in fashionable Manuka,
and it's even BYO with no corkage which makes unique in that part of Canberra,
but they do exceptional Malay/Chinese food.
The shan tung chicken is not to be missed and nor is the English spinach
in garlic.
Next morning we were off to Floriade which was
lovely but if you've been at any time over the last ten years or so there's no need to
rush back. Nothing has changed beyond
the expansion of the stalls and concessions, most completely untreated to
gardening. There is also a new
amusements area that has alleviated visiting children of the need to look at
the gardens and wonder at the marvels of both nature and plant
engineering. Let no child go
unentertained or any spare dollar unspent!
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| Entertaining the kiddies |
Canberra Tucker Tip #2
The
Burmese Curry Place is in the lovely old Sydney Building on Northbourne Ave and
it’s a lunchtime must because you have to get there early for dinner. We've managed the latter just once but in the last
four times we’ve been in Canberra we’ve missed out on both every other time because of a fire
around the corner; closed for holidays; or just plain bad luck but I was
determined to change that!
We headed
to the footbridge over Parkes Way and hoofed it into town for lunch. And there was I, like Moses looking upon the
Promised Land but unlike Moses, not forbidden by my Invisible Friend from
entering so in I went. And there-in did
I find my very favorite egg curry which is two slightly pierced hard boiled
eggs in a curry sauce - the stuff of my dreams!
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Since I was on a walking stick the rumor of a
shuttle bus back to Floriade where DeDe was parked sounded quite enticing so we
went to the appointed bus stand and stupidly got on the first bus that
came. It sailed right past Floriade then
over Commonwealth Bridge en route to its actual destination of Tuggeranong
which is Canberra’s southernmost satellite township just a little north of
Melbourne.
The kindly bus driver stopped and let us out
opposite the Albert Hall, an amusingly named performance space on the south
side of Lake Burley Griffin. We were now
roughly twice as far away from Floriade as we had been at the Burmese Curry
Place and I was still on a walking stick but off we set, back across the bridge
and through the parklands to our destination and a well-earned cup of tea
although it must be said that they had special people working I their tea,
coffee and muffin facility but that’s another politically incorrect story.
The penultimate highlight of my day - the egg
curry being unsurpassable - was dancing with the trumpet player from the
strolling army band. Yes, strolling. Unlike America, marching isn’t seen as a
particularly worthwhile pursuit in Australia so military bands stroll or walk
in preference to marching when and where they can and Floriade is such a place. Now what I didn’t know was if you walk in
front of their spectators rather than behind - and remember I was on a stick - you
have to dance with one of the band members and so it was.
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| Army Strolling Band |
Sometimes life actually imitates life. We had with us two pieces of our lotus water feature that required
repair and modification by their creator who lives in - now wait for it -
Tuggeranong. Unfortunately, despite successfully
made email arrangements followed by repeated unsuccessful attempts at
communication by phone, coppersmith extraordinaire, Annie, was not at home and
nowhere to be found.
Never mind, with unrepaired and unmodified garden
art in tow we set off find a nursery, just for the sheer joy of a meander. That’s when Thelma the sat nav proved herself
to be a lying bitch, several times over, and was told so in no uncertain terms.
Canberra Tucker Tip #3
I’ve said
it before and I’ll say it again - the new National Arboretum for all manner of
reasons, one of them being food. They
have an excellent bistro menu with Peter and me each selecting gourmet burgers -
his composed of several species of dead animals; mine of several species of
humanely euthanised legumes both served on slaughtered and sliced tree
trunks.
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| Gourmet Burger on a slice of tree |
They also
have a smarter restaurant called The Conservatory which looks much like where
we were apart from table cloths and waiters.
The do breakfast, lunch and dinner and we will be going back before
11.00am next visit so I can experience their Son-in-Law
Eggs which are crispy deep-fried poached eggs with
caramel chilli, coriander and shallots - yummo!
Nursery Tip # 1
Host Anne - rare sliced beef salad - then guided us to
the nursery strip in Pialligo which was a joyous and productive experience
thanks to my new friend Trevor at Rodney’s Plants Plus who solved all my
vegetable flowering and fruiting problems in ten minutes flat. Many businesses are relegated to specific
neighborhoods in Canberra. Fyshwick has
long been known for brothels, sex shops and all things automotive; Pialligo is
plants and airports.
Canberra Tucker Tip 1A
No visit to Canberra is ever complete without going to
Timmy’s twice so we returned for an early lunch before heading north. Timmy recognised us immediately and brought the
exact same dishes we’ve enjoyed on our last 27 visits - shan tung chicken and
English spinach.
Nursery Tip #2
Of course if it’s not food it’s nurseries or perhaps
hardware stores so we stopped at the Bundanoon Bloomery on the way home. You can’t miss it in the main street of
Bundannon in the lovely Southern Highlands.
The Bloomery is owned and run by our good friends Allan and Ian and
while you won’t get a discount for mentioning my name they will happily regale
you with tales that are both amusing and quite possibly embarrassing so do drop
by.
As always, DeDe performed
flawlessly and ran off the smell of an oily rag. Subaru would do so much better to ask me how
best to advertise their product rather than using a camp clone GI Joe doll and a
Lou Reid song about transssexuality, drugs, male prostitution and oral sex - not that
I don’t celebrate both camp clone GI Joes and Lou Reid; but what the bloody hell
were they thinking when they came up with that campaign?! Did the advertising execs forgo the usual
long lunch and vats of chardonnay for copious lines of cocaine or was it
something cooked up in Tokyo?
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| My favorite shot at Floriade 2016 |
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