A bit of background; Jim and his partner have been participating in a number of house sitting stints throughout greater Victoria, as he's taken his paternal leave and a leave of absence to spend time with his family. It's been an awesome opportunity for them to get to experience different living situations for free, while also "paying it forward," by looking after the home owners' property and pets. They've spent time in the mountains of Tasmania, on a cattle farm in northern Victoria, and most recently, coastal Victoria. In terms of life experiences, Jim's got some pretty incredible stories from their times house sitting. I was most intrigued by their time on the cattle farm, including learning how to patch fences, ride tractors, and herd cattle.
I hadn't seen Jim for nearly three months when he called me to invite us down to the coast. I was pretty excited about hanging out, sharing some of our homebrew, and seeing the beautiful coast. Lydia and I also figured it would be a good experience for Emily on her last weekend with us to get out of the city and see the coast.
We got a late start Saturday morning leaving Melbourne, as we had to get everyone mobilized and the car packed up. We hit the road around 11 and rolled on down to the Great Ocean Road- a windy road that runs along the coast which starts about an hour west of Melbourne. This wasn't our first time on the Great Ocean Road, as we had taken it to get down for our camping trip along the Great Ocean Walk back in March.
The ride down was relatively uneventful, although as per usual this time of year, we experienced nearly four seasons in one day. When we left Melbourne it was a sunny and warm day, but by the time we arrived in Lorne, it was gray, cold, and pouring rain. One thing about living down here is I have a greater appreciation for the different manifestations of rain; it's not like back home in Georgia where it either drizzles or pours marble-sized drops; here there is a much wider spectrum of possibilities, including such variants as the popular sideways mist, the dribble and pour, the it's-not-raining-yet-I'm-still-getting-wet and who could forget the not-uncommon sunny-day-blue-sky-where-the-hell-is-that-coming-from rain. On more than one occasion on my way to work, I could've sworn that I've seen rain rise upwards, but maybe that was just the result of a couple of bleary-eyed mornings.
Regardless, the rain and cold didn't detract from the beauty of the coast. We rolled in, or rather up, around 1pm. One thing about the house that Jim and family were staying in was that it's perched on top of a coastal cliff, which one the one hand provided incredible views over the ocean, but on the other required considerable effort on behalf of our little Golf to ascend. Coupled with slicked, unfinished road, I was impressed and surprised to find that our little Kraut (the car, not Lydia) had almost no issue at all making it up.
We were received warmly where we promptly turned our attention to both the adorable toddler and the two household pets, a cat whose name I can't recall, but for the purposes of this post, I will name "Screachy," and a dog named Flea (after the insect, not the mononymous bassist from the Red Hot Chili Peppers). Upon arrival, I promptly ingested more than the recommended dose of anti-allergy medication to negate Screachy's effect on my sinuses. We were informed that although friendly, apparently Screachy had a penchants for, without warning, jumping from furniture or the ground onto one's chest and shoulders, with no hesitation of using his claws for stability. Screachy also had a bad habit of walking on the kitchen counters and dining table, which required constant attention to ensure that he, and more importantly his allergy-inducing fur, remained free from consumables.
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| Artist's Depiction of "Screachy" |
We had a light lunch then headed down to the beach for some volleyball and pictures. Sure enough, as soon as we got down to the sand, the skies opened up, with an impressive rendition of both sideways mist and substantial rain. We weren't deterred however (and the little one was a trouper hanging out on a blanket on the beach), and had a good time bumping the volleyball back and forth, while chilling our feet in the frigid sand. Not long after it began, the rain stopped, leaving us with a full double rainbow. According to Jim, rainbows aren't uncommon along the coast, at least since they had been there, as they often saw at least one per day. We paused briefly for some photo ops before returning to our volleyball game, though this time with the inclusion of soccer-style headers:
After sufficiently chilling our feet to the point of numbness, we returned back up to the house to relax by the wood stove heater and prepare a curry dinner. I helped Jim "shuck" the chicken from the hip (do chickens have hips?) bone. This proved more difficult than anticipated, although we were aided by the formidable sustenance of beer. After finishing with the chicken, we left the bones aside in a bowl, which Screachy promptly retrieved and attempted to ingest, although unsuccessfully.
Dinner was amazing. Cathy made homemade naan, which was delicious, and the chicken curry came out wonderfully, particularly after the addition of fresh vegetables. After dinner, I headed out on to the porch to play around with some long exposure photography, with mixed results:
To end the night, Jim and I made the trek down (via a creative shortcut that may not have actually been a designated path) to the only pub in Lorne, whose owner also owned the house we stayed in. Being a school holiday, times were busy at the pub- there was in total maybe six people there, all bemused by what must have been the top 100 worst songs of the early 90s. Jim and I played one game of pool, called it a night, and hiked back up to the house to head to bed.
To keep Screachy at bay, Jim locked him in the laundry and bathroom facility of the house. Screachy didn't appreciate his solidarity and proceeded to reprise the power ballads from the playlist we heard earlier at the pub, this time all in the key of what I can only assume to be C minor. After track six or seven, Screachy retired to his chambers, only to pick up two hours later when I had to startle him awake to use the bathroom.
We awoke late the next morning to a wall of fog. Jim headed down to surf as we mobilized- I was meant to join him as I had brought along my wet suit, but my aversion to cold water and inexperience kept me in the house, as the swell was easily over a meter. I do intend to head back down to the coast at some point to try my hand, although I think I'll wait until January when it warms up a bit.
We said our goodbyes, hit the road, and headed back to Melbourne to let Emily pack, as she had to fly back to the States the next day. We made sure to stop along the way where we picked up a couple of beers from a small-shop brewpub in Forrest, Victoria.
All in all, it was a great quiet weekend and we had a lot of fun catching up with Jim and Cathy and spending a short time down on the coast.
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