Wednesday, December 12, 2007
BLANKET BAY STYLE..........
About this time last year I made sure I got one last decent camping trip before the next surgery.
This year was no different with Snorkmaiden and I managing to get away to Blanket Bay for a couple of nights one week out from the scheduled surgery.
That place is always awesome and I feel a certain affinity with it.
We got away about half past four on the Friday, thinking that we'll beat the weekend traffic jam out of Melbourne, especially the one in Geelong which never fails to annoy the hell out
of me.
I managed to stick behind a truck that was the same year and model as the original Optimus Prime from Transformers for a good portion of the freeway.
Being a professional driver with a much higher view of the road, the humble truckie can pick the fastest moving lane and spot obstacles from a far greater distance than yer average road user.
If there is any trouble up ahead you can always brake faster than a truck, if things get really nasty then you can expect the truck to clear a path in front of you as it bulldozes its way through people's cars and lives.
Funny that I was able to use to my advantage the very thing that had put me in this position in the first place.
It wasn't so bad on the motorbike, I would slice and dice my way through the hordes of metallic hulks like yet another one of those fangled slicing and dicing machines you see being flogged to death on tv infomercials.
It was inevitable that the Geelong bottleneck would slow us down and so we trudged our way through it along with all the other cars, not unlike some herd of sheep with glazed over eyes slowly making their way through the yards towards the shearing shed / transporter / slaughter house.
Only difference being that the people in their vehicles were a little happier than normal, probably because it was the end of the week or they were heading off to a weekend away somewhere.
I've called my car Eleanor the Emo, because Eleanor was the name of the yellow mustang which gave so much trouble to the thieves in 'Gone In 60 Seconds' ( the original not the rubbish remake with Nic Cage's wooden acting in it ) and Emo because it seems to have a habit of breaking down.
Thankfully it hasn't taken to cutting itself.
I've had a few issues with it which could have been rather costly but in the end turned not too badly.
Much like emos, the problems weren't as dire or catastrophic as they make them out to be.
Anyway, Eleanor performed flawlessly and we made good time, arriving about three and a half hours later.
Just short of Blanket Bay is the little section of bush where I camped earlier in the year, the one full of koalas.
As we rounded a corner I cautioned Snorkmaiden to keep an eye out for the little grey bundles of tourism attraction due to their rather prevalent numbers and sure enough as we exited the corner onto the straight there were two of the stoned looking blighters sitting smack bang in the middle of the road ( if you've ever seen one you'll relate to how the hours and hours of chewing on gum leaves gives them that out of it look).
Eleanor stopped just a few feet from them and we ooohed and aaahed at the marsupial's clear indifference to the one and a half tonne of metal, plastic and flesh that could well have been the last thing it saw in its short stoned existence on this planet.
I revved the engine.......... nothing.
I beeped the horn.......... still nothing.
I flashed the lights.......... still more nothing.
I revved the engine, beeped the horn, flashed the lights and pleaded with the critter to get off the road, yet still the arrogant and stubborn mongrel of a thing would not budge.
Finally I decided that I will take a photo of it as a keepsake and proceed to drive around it.
As I stopped next to it, I opened the door to get an up close and personal shot and what do you know, it didn't like the flash of the camera!
As soon as I started clicking away it walked away!
Cheeky little thing.
We arrived at Blanket Bay proper only to find that a geriatric bushwalking tour had taken most of the camp sites.
There were literally no spots left!
We drove around a bit, with me cursing and voicing my displeasure at this commercial enterprise spoiling it for the greater camping public.
We were just about to leave when we decided to explore a little side road, which I was sure contained no spots and led back to the main camp loop road.
Sure enough it did exactly that and as were once again first geared our way through the camp site an older man, probably in his sixties, motioned for me to pull over.
He asked if we were stuck for a spot and offered to shift his camper van so we could pitch up behind it.
His act of camping kindness towards a couple of sundowners more than made up for the herd of geriatrics who had invaded and occupied the place like seagulls at the rubbish tip.
Turned out he was touring with his brother and his wife, who had an almost identical camper of their own, and they were heading off the next day.
He was a lovely bloke from South Australia with whom we shared some interesting conversation that night.
Turned out he also had a metal rod in his femur, but it was put in about 30 years ago and was still in there due to failed attempts at removal.
The screws had fused to the rod and were immovable, which is exactly the sort of problem my experimental tibial plate is supposed to overcome.
As a result of all the carry on, Jeff had spent six months in hopsital, in a bed!
My initial stay in hospital was seven months, two of which were in a bed.
I could not imagine what it must have been like to be laid up for 6 months, not being able to set foot on the ground!!!
The next day we exchanged photographs and Snorkmaiden worked out how to enter my number in his phone on his request.
I received a phone call from him a couple of days after my surgery enquiring as to how it all went. ( more on that later )
The rest of the time we spent going for walks, taking photos, swimming in the ocean, all that relaxing sort of stuff you go away to these sort of places for.
My right leg had been giving me a lot of trouble in the week leading up to this trip and I suspected it was all to do with the metal in there.
It was really wearing me down physically, but luckily it had come just about right by the camping time, bit still stopped me from doing any longish walks.
I made another stone sculpture in my favourite sculpture spot, although this one didn't seem to last all that long really as the next day it had toppled over.
That night we went to one of the communal fire / barbeque spots and joined a group of people about our age for some fine dining, drinking and with the help of my guitar some rather drunken singing.
It was really nice sitting there eating our barbequed meats and salad with a view of the coastline in the sunset, it doesn't get any better really.
A couple of bottles of wine later and Snorkmaiden and I were ready to hit the tent.
The next morning after a sunrise seaside photography expedition, we cooked breakfast and were assaulted by countless flies.
The annoying shits were getting into everything and in the end we resigned to sitting in the car to finish off our food.
Even then there were still a half a dozen that managed to get in the car.
After breakfast we went for another swim, although being earlier in the day that water was a bit more bracing than the the afternoon before.
We broke camp and headed back to Melbourne via The Great Ocean Road this time.
Normally I would avoid it like the plague due to the number of tourists and other people who can't drive that seem to fill this well scenic but, normally overpopulated drive.
For some strange reason it was relatively clear this time around and we actually managed to enjoy the trip rather than bitch and moan about that tourist stopping in the middle of a blind corner to take a photo, that old upper class toff in his Range Rover loafing around like some motoring equivalent of Jabba the Hut, the European backpacker driving on the wrong side of the road ( there are actually signs on the road stating which side we drive on in Australia specifically aimed at them! ) or the massive tourist coaches coming around corners on your side of the road.
Once again I stopped at Anglesea and we munched out on some luverly fish and chips before heading back through Geelong and into Melbourne proper.
All that was left was 4 days at work and then surgery on the 7th December.
It all went well and I will post more on that in the next few days along with some photos from the trip which I'm having trouble uploading due to my current ( hopefully temporary ) downgrade to a dial up internet connection.
:)
.
This year was no different with Snorkmaiden and I managing to get away to Blanket Bay for a couple of nights one week out from the scheduled surgery.
That place is always awesome and I feel a certain affinity with it.
We got away about half past four on the Friday, thinking that we'll beat the weekend traffic jam out of Melbourne, especially the one in Geelong which never fails to annoy the hell out
of me.
I managed to stick behind a truck that was the same year and model as the original Optimus Prime from Transformers for a good portion of the freeway.
Being a professional driver with a much higher view of the road, the humble truckie can pick the fastest moving lane and spot obstacles from a far greater distance than yer average road user.
If there is any trouble up ahead you can always brake faster than a truck, if things get really nasty then you can expect the truck to clear a path in front of you as it bulldozes its way through people's cars and lives.
Funny that I was able to use to my advantage the very thing that had put me in this position in the first place.
It wasn't so bad on the motorbike, I would slice and dice my way through the hordes of metallic hulks like yet another one of those fangled slicing and dicing machines you see being flogged to death on tv infomercials.
It was inevitable that the Geelong bottleneck would slow us down and so we trudged our way through it along with all the other cars, not unlike some herd of sheep with glazed over eyes slowly making their way through the yards towards the shearing shed / transporter / slaughter house.
Only difference being that the people in their vehicles were a little happier than normal, probably because it was the end of the week or they were heading off to a weekend away somewhere.
I've called my car Eleanor the Emo, because Eleanor was the name of the yellow mustang which gave so much trouble to the thieves in 'Gone In 60 Seconds' ( the original not the rubbish remake with Nic Cage's wooden acting in it ) and Emo because it seems to have a habit of breaking down.
Thankfully it hasn't taken to cutting itself.
I've had a few issues with it which could have been rather costly but in the end turned not too badly.
Much like emos, the problems weren't as dire or catastrophic as they make them out to be.
Anyway, Eleanor performed flawlessly and we made good time, arriving about three and a half hours later.
Just short of Blanket Bay is the little section of bush where I camped earlier in the year, the one full of koalas.
As we rounded a corner I cautioned Snorkmaiden to keep an eye out for the little grey bundles of tourism attraction due to their rather prevalent numbers and sure enough as we exited the corner onto the straight there were two of the stoned looking blighters sitting smack bang in the middle of the road ( if you've ever seen one you'll relate to how the hours and hours of chewing on gum leaves gives them that out of it look).
Eleanor stopped just a few feet from them and we ooohed and aaahed at the marsupial's clear indifference to the one and a half tonne of metal, plastic and flesh that could well have been the last thing it saw in its short stoned existence on this planet.
I revved the engine.......... nothing.
I beeped the horn.......... still nothing.
I flashed the lights.......... still more nothing.
I revved the engine, beeped the horn, flashed the lights and pleaded with the critter to get off the road, yet still the arrogant and stubborn mongrel of a thing would not budge.
Finally I decided that I will take a photo of it as a keepsake and proceed to drive around it.
As I stopped next to it, I opened the door to get an up close and personal shot and what do you know, it didn't like the flash of the camera!
As soon as I started clicking away it walked away!
Cheeky little thing.
We arrived at Blanket Bay proper only to find that a geriatric bushwalking tour had taken most of the camp sites.
There were literally no spots left!
We drove around a bit, with me cursing and voicing my displeasure at this commercial enterprise spoiling it for the greater camping public.
We were just about to leave when we decided to explore a little side road, which I was sure contained no spots and led back to the main camp loop road.
Sure enough it did exactly that and as were once again first geared our way through the camp site an older man, probably in his sixties, motioned for me to pull over.
He asked if we were stuck for a spot and offered to shift his camper van so we could pitch up behind it.
His act of camping kindness towards a couple of sundowners more than made up for the herd of geriatrics who had invaded and occupied the place like seagulls at the rubbish tip.
Turned out he was touring with his brother and his wife, who had an almost identical camper of their own, and they were heading off the next day.
He was a lovely bloke from South Australia with whom we shared some interesting conversation that night.
Turned out he also had a metal rod in his femur, but it was put in about 30 years ago and was still in there due to failed attempts at removal.
The screws had fused to the rod and were immovable, which is exactly the sort of problem my experimental tibial plate is supposed to overcome.
As a result of all the carry on, Jeff had spent six months in hopsital, in a bed!
My initial stay in hospital was seven months, two of which were in a bed.
I could not imagine what it must have been like to be laid up for 6 months, not being able to set foot on the ground!!!
The next day we exchanged photographs and Snorkmaiden worked out how to enter my number in his phone on his request.
I received a phone call from him a couple of days after my surgery enquiring as to how it all went. ( more on that later )
The rest of the time we spent going for walks, taking photos, swimming in the ocean, all that relaxing sort of stuff you go away to these sort of places for.
My right leg had been giving me a lot of trouble in the week leading up to this trip and I suspected it was all to do with the metal in there.
It was really wearing me down physically, but luckily it had come just about right by the camping time, bit still stopped me from doing any longish walks.
I made another stone sculpture in my favourite sculpture spot, although this one didn't seem to last all that long really as the next day it had toppled over.
That night we went to one of the communal fire / barbeque spots and joined a group of people about our age for some fine dining, drinking and with the help of my guitar some rather drunken singing.
It was really nice sitting there eating our barbequed meats and salad with a view of the coastline in the sunset, it doesn't get any better really.
A couple of bottles of wine later and Snorkmaiden and I were ready to hit the tent.
The next morning after a sunrise seaside photography expedition, we cooked breakfast and were assaulted by countless flies.
The annoying shits were getting into everything and in the end we resigned to sitting in the car to finish off our food.
Even then there were still a half a dozen that managed to get in the car.
After breakfast we went for another swim, although being earlier in the day that water was a bit more bracing than the the afternoon before.
We broke camp and headed back to Melbourne via The Great Ocean Road this time.
Normally I would avoid it like the plague due to the number of tourists and other people who can't drive that seem to fill this well scenic but, normally overpopulated drive.
For some strange reason it was relatively clear this time around and we actually managed to enjoy the trip rather than bitch and moan about that tourist stopping in the middle of a blind corner to take a photo, that old upper class toff in his Range Rover loafing around like some motoring equivalent of Jabba the Hut, the European backpacker driving on the wrong side of the road ( there are actually signs on the road stating which side we drive on in Australia specifically aimed at them! ) or the massive tourist coaches coming around corners on your side of the road.
Once again I stopped at Anglesea and we munched out on some luverly fish and chips before heading back through Geelong and into Melbourne proper.
All that was left was 4 days at work and then surgery on the 7th December.
It all went well and I will post more on that in the next few days along with some photos from the trip which I'm having trouble uploading due to my current ( hopefully temporary ) downgrade to a dial up internet connection.
:)
.
