So, up at the usual silly o clock and then the shorter, weekday walk done and dusted early with me daags, giving the boys plenty of time to stake claims to their cool spots in the garden. In a rare moment of common sense I went shopping after feeding the hounds, making sure I'd not have to shop after we got back on Sunday. Shopping stowed, car overpacked - an advantage of driving a small bus - we hit the road.
Other than forgetting to get the etag out of the Subaru the journey was uneventful enough. Hardly surprising on what must rate as one of the dullest roads I have ever driven. Mostly straight, dual carriageway there is a stretch of around 170km that seems to be the same kilometer repeated 170 times. It is not a bad kilometer when looked at in isolation, but a couple of hours of it just send you to sleep. No hills, lights, roundabouts. Nothing much at all. If I had cruise control in the bus I'd have put it on and popped into the back row to teach AJ how to play Top Trumps, or have a kip.
There is one spot where the relentless dullness lifts and that is Lake George. The GPS shows a large blue area that the road skirts, which is far more interesting than accurate as Lake George contains a couple of puddles and is mostly a large, dead-flat grass-flat. Funny when you consider that Queenslnd has floods the size of France and Germany combined. It is still quite spectacular. Proper flat with a nice distant rang of hills. Once again I am blogging via flickr, hence no links, but I shall endeavor to find out where the water went and then add a link; or you can go google 'lake george nsw' and then tell me what happened. Not sure the distant wind-farm was there when I last drove past, though that was a fair few years ago.
...later edit...seems is os shallow as hell these days and simply evaporates. So there. Or rather, here.
The other thing to mention about the drive is that it is called 'The Rememberence Driveway' which has a creepily Orwellian ring, what with it being so forgettable. Maybe it refers to the hours you get to lose yourself in introspetive contemplation while attempting to stay awake? Again, I'll jog-off and google why it is I'm supposed to remember. War, I suppose.
The other thing to mention about the drive is that it is called 'The Rememberence Driveway' which has a creepily Orwellian ring, what with it being so forgettable. Maybe it refers to the hours you get to lose yourself in introspetive contemplation while attempting to stay awake? Again, I'll jog-off and google why it is I'm supposed to remember. War, I suppose.
...later edit...yep, wars. But only WWII and since, which seems a little peculiar to me.
The Remembrance Driveway is a tribute from those who remember yesterday and have faith in tomorrow. It commemorates those who served in the Australian Defence Forces in World War II and subsequent wars or since then in operational theatres around the world.
Arriving in Canberra has the architectural impact of arriving at an airport. Straight roads radiate and ring roads ring. Low, utilitarian buildings that seem to be mix of public housing, hotels, nondescript offices and, well, other stuff that all looks the same. Even the Parliament Building looks like an airport terminal and the lake, while nice, is unspectacular. I think this is the Canberra of most people who don't live there. I know there is great running and cycling, that the locals love it and I guess it must therefore be a decent enough place to live, a couple of hours from the snow in winter, a couple of hours from the ocean.. But by fuck, it doesn't half look dull. And the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) does itself no favours by dropping the speed limit from 110 to 100 at the border. The last thing I want to do is spend more time that I need to on THAT road.
Ably assisted from space I navigate to Hempy's place, which is a nice enough suburb that could be in any largish Australian City, Griffith. He looks suitably shocked at my bus while I almost piss myself when I see that he now has a 1963 Morris Mini with the clunking great 850cc motor and an exhaust smaller than the straw AJ had in her milk this morning. I, of course, took the piss. I, of course, love his car.
More to follow, I need to go pay some tolls before I forget.
Arriving in Canberra has the architectural impact of arriving at an airport. Straight roads radiate and ring roads ring. Low, utilitarian buildings that seem to be mix of public housing, hotels, nondescript offices and, well, other stuff that all looks the same. Even the Parliament Building looks like an airport terminal and the lake, while nice, is unspectacular. I think this is the Canberra of most people who don't live there. I know there is great running and cycling, that the locals love it and I guess it must therefore be a decent enough place to live, a couple of hours from the snow in winter, a couple of hours from the ocean.. But by fuck, it doesn't half look dull. And the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) does itself no favours by dropping the speed limit from 110 to 100 at the border. The last thing I want to do is spend more time that I need to on THAT road.
Ably assisted from space I navigate to Hempy's place, which is a nice enough suburb that could be in any largish Australian City, Griffith. He looks suitably shocked at my bus while I almost piss myself when I see that he now has a 1963 Morris Mini with the clunking great 850cc motor and an exhaust smaller than the straw AJ had in her milk this morning. I, of course, took the piss. I, of course, love his car.
More to follow, I need to go pay some tolls before I forget.
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