Saying farewell to Melbourne – April 4-9, 2009

Our farewells began in Leopold, where we spent the last night of our Great Ocean Road trip. Leopold is west of Geelong, which is around the bay to the west of Melbourne.

That's Chappy snuggling beside Milton Harwood, with a smiling David looking on.

Robin’s made some good friends during his tours, and the four of us (the twins and their respective partners) were warmly welcomed by two of them, Adriana and Milton Harwood, as well as their two friendly canines, Josh (poodle) and Chappy (boxer).

Here we were, four people descending on them with less than a week’s warning, and they greeted us in true Aussie fashion, with such open-hearted friendliness and generous hospitality that we hated saying goodbye to them the next day.

Adriana is a terrific cook, and Milton keeps her well supplied with appliances and gadgets and lovely gifts from his extensive travels. (He manages installation of some pretty massive electrical projects.) Not many men enjoy shopping, but Milton’s an exception. What’s more, he has great taste.

An adoring Josh peers over Adriana's shoulder

The morning after our special evening with the Harwoods, Michelle (Robin’s daughter) and Miriam (her beautiful partner) arrived to collect us. They’d driven all the way from their home in St. Kilda to pick us up and take us to Box Hill (both Melbourne neighbourhoods but about 45 minutes’ drive apart).

Saying goodbye to David and Jeannette was hard. We’d been underfoot since January, except for a few days in Port Elliot, ten days in Western Australia, and three weeks of house sitting for their neighbours.

We all know the saying about the similarity in smells between fish and visitors that have overstayed their welcome. Yet we’d been in each others’ pockets for months and were still great friends. It was doubly hard to say goodbye because we’ve no idea when our next trip to Oz will be. Thank goodness for Skype.

Saying goodbye to Adriana and Milton was hard too. They’re the kind of folks we want as neighbours, warm, accepting, down to earth. We know we’ll see them again. We just don’t know when.

Darren Jarman holding Lily

Arriving in Melbourne, for one of Darren’s and Natalie’s gourmet feasts, we found Lily had lost some of her baby fat and gained a new skill – walking. How good it was to look around the table at the four beautiful young people who made our November-December stay in Melbourne so special and made me feel part of the family.

We spent the first half of our brief stay in Melbourne with Darren and Nat. Then Michelle picked us up to spend the last half with her and Miriam.

Michelle's and Mim's dog Wilbur reminding Cathryn there are more important things for hands to do than type

The stay was entirely too brief but added to our quandary. We’d had a fabulous time in Melbourne and then another fabulous time in Adelaide. If we live in Australia, where would we want to be? We need to win the lottery so we can have a home in Adelaide, a home in Melbourne, a home in Kelowna, and maybe even a home further north in Australia, out of the worst hay fever zone. (Robin suffered the whole five months.)

We didn’t have time to catch up with everyone we’d like to have seen in Melbourne, but we did pay a brief visit to two homes. The first was in Brunswick, home of Max, the silk terrier who wrapped his furry self around our hearts. Lyndal and Allan were visiting relatives and friends in ireland while we looked after Max. We’d kept in touch by e-mal while they traveled so were delighted to have a chance to see them before we left.

Rick and Mario preparing a gourmet feast

Our last visit was a fitting end to our time in Melbourne. We’d gotten to know Rick and Mario when they were fellow passengers on the cruise from Seattle to Wellington last September. In Melbourne we’d been able to bring them and Michelle and Mim together for dinner and an evening of stimulating conversation. Rick and Mario invited us all over for one final dinner in their gracious Albert Park home. The meal was to die for, the conversation a delight, the company the best. What a great ending – well, almost ending, as Easter weekend in Sydney was yet to come – to our stay in Australia.

Proud Popsy holding Lily as the two of them play piano

One last photo before I close off this entry. Here’s Robin, aka “Popsy” with the little munchkin who’s stolen our heart, granddaughter Lily Jarman. As I write it’s actually Mother’s Day in Canada, and we’re awaiting news of the arrival of Lily’s new sibling.

P.S. Just one more photo. This one from Darren. How many places in the world do kangaroos hang around watching golfers?

Kangaroos waiting for their turn - photo by Darren Jarman

Touring around Melbourne

December 30, 2008

I saw my first roos today, three of them. Only problem was the first two kangaroos were road kill. The third, well, I saw only a piece of him or her, lying in chunks on my plate, covered with plum sauce.

Robin talking with the Watsons in Warrandyte, a Melbourne suburb

We were in the dining room of Fergusson’s winery, one of the many small wineries scattered around the Yarra Valley. Our hosts, Charles and Judith Watson, were introducing us to more of the outer suburbs and the country towns and valleys that lie to the northeast of Melbourne. When we stopped at the winery for lunch, Charles encouraged me to try the kangaroo fillet.

I hadn’t been able to taste anything since a bronchial infection invaded in mid-December and was reluctant to waste a taste exploration. So first I sampled the soda bread waiting for us on the table the Watsons had reserved. Since I could actually taste it, I opted for the culinary experience of native meat.

The flavour of the kangaroo was surprisingly subtle, the meat completely devoid of fat. The Fergusson’s chef had roasted the lean fillet gently, leaving it slightly pink. The meal was accompanied by rich potato gratin and a salad of baby spinach, pecans, and roast pumpkin.

So I’m sold on ‘roo as an option for the rare red meat we eat. Since kangaroos are native and don’t fart methane, they’re a more environmentally sound choice anyway.

As to the salad, I can’t recall ever seeing pumpkin on a North American salad menu. What we call “squash”, Australians call “pumpkin”. No matter the variety of squash (and there are fewer than in Canada), it is all “pumpkin”. Here in Oz it is used more extensively than in North America. Pumpkin shows up in soup, salad, and casseroles, as side dishes and main courses. It’s all delicious for those of us who love the sweet flesh of this long-lasting vegetable.

Cockatoo outside Warrandyte antique store

The day with the Watsons was my first chance to see cockatoos in the wild. They were in Warrandyte, a suburb on the north side of Melbourne. The birds were drawn to the seeds provided by the owners of an antique store with attached restaurant.

Sharing the seeds that dropped from the feeders was a galah. I’m enchanted with the pink-chested, grey-backed birds, but the truth is they’re about as useful as starlings. Calling someone a “silly galah” is common slang and definitely not a compliment.

Galah feeding near the cockatoo

But I’m getting ahead of myself because on the 27th Darren and Nat drove us out into the countryside northwest of Melbourne to visit Daylesford. It’s another of the lively small communities “the kids” (Robin’s children and their partners) think might be the kind of place we’d enjoy calling home.

This being school holidays, Daylesford was packed with visitors, many of them families. Set in spa country and home to a growing gay community, the town is a hilly, tree-lined charmer. It’s about an hour and a half out of Melbourne, but it is definitely a good candidate for a livable, small town.

Cathryn and Robin with Richard and Marie Clivaz at Domaine Chandon winery

On the 29th Richard and Marie Clivaz took us on a drive through countryside that reminded us of the Okanagan. That’s not homesickness talking here. You can see by the view from the Yarra Valley division of the French winery, Domaine Chandon, that the region has many vistas that resemble our British Columbian wine valley. The flora are different, but the views are similar.

Although this was not our first foray into the Yarra Valley, we saw many parts of it for the first time and other parts from different directions. Yarra Glen was one of those. Approaching from a new direction made the town more interesting. We saw enough of the surrounding neighbourhoods to see it as a town with possibilities large enough and far enough from Melbourne (so not just a bedroom community) to be a place where we could get involved with the community. One more option to consider.