What a pleasure it was to rise to the realisation that today's travel was to be a mere 90 kms. After the past two days that seemed to 'balance the books' somewhat and I am more than happy to report that we covered the distance and negotiated the Canberra traffic with ease.
I was a little apprehensive about spending a couple of nights parked in a suburban street, but mine host Dean had assured me that there would be plenty of room and that the street itself was very quiet.
I did have to become a little creative with supporting blocks to ensure that the van was level, but once this was done it was time to socialise.
The annual Canberra Floriade festival was in full swing at the time of our arrival. In fact, apart from the real convenience of staying at the home of our friends, we had little orther choice. My attempts to find a caravan park site in or near Canberra six months previously had met with total failure.....the entire place had been booked out months before. It would appear that a vast percentage of Australia's grey nomad population descend on the Nation's capital for Floriade.
There was one remaining alternative, a spot in the temporary caravan park established in one of Canberra's showgrounds, but at something in the order of $50 + per night for an unpowered site, where, as we saw driving past 'crowded' is a mild description of the end result, we were delighted to be anchored in suburban Kaleen.
As I have indicated in the heading of this missive, we had arrived in Canberra on the winter sporting weekend of the year, that of the the AFL and NRL Grand Finals. What a coup...to be able to watch these events in the comfort of a lounge room, on a big screen, with good friends and the large fridge not too far away....marvellous.
Irrespective of the fact that the much awaited AFL match was something of a flop as a spectacle, we did enjoy the afternoon before settling down to a most welcome home cooked dinner. And then things did liven up considerably. Liz had provided strawberries for sweets, which she had liberally enhanced with a drop or two of Bundy liqueur rum.
Well, of course, that soon led to a comparative tasting.......Dean just happened to have the odd bottle or two of some rather eclectic brews.
"Just what is this, Dean?" Now, as you would expect, as the perfect guests, we did feel it our duty to sample all that was on offer, and as you would equally expect, we were a little chirpy by the time we made it out to our mobile bedroom.
A very good night's sleep, a strong, hot shower and Dean's fine cooked breakfast were all that were needed the following morning to restore vim and vigour. We had a full day ahead of us.
We began our jaunt around Canberra with a mandatory visit to Mount Ainslie, the iconic Canberra lookout which was not too far from our digs. There is a very good reason this is so popular. Even on a hazy morning such as this, 'postcard Canberra' is spread out below.
Our hosts were keen to take us to the Floriade, despite our assurances that we had been to one some years ago and, based on that experience, we suspected that the traffic would be horrendous and parking impossible. All too true....."Let's move on!"
And what a surprise was in store for us. As I am sure you will all remember, much of the bushland around Canberra, and sadly many suburban homes, were destroyed some years ago by what could only be described as a firestorm. Obviously much has since been rebuilt, but in one area the decision was taken to develop an expansive arboretum on the previously scorched hillsides.
Below the imperious gaze of this steel eagle perched on a nest constructed of metal odds and ends, with the huge communication tower on Canberra's Black Mountain in the background,
the slopes of the arboretum stretch out in all directions. The number of tree plantings is extraordinary.....thousands of varying varieties, many exotic, have been set into the ground in massed groups. In ten years of so this place will surely rate as one of Australia's real tourist attractions.
From our vantage point we could also look out over one of the country's most well known homes, Yarralumla. Nice piece of real estate. How hard is it to become the Governor General?
Given that the proposed Floriade venture had been put to rest, we now had some time on our hands. The NRL Grand Final is an evening affair, so the rest of the day was free. Dean treated us to a most interesting drive around much of the countryside of the Australian Capital Territory, where we were amazed to find many most inviting rural picnic areas on the banks of local rivers and particularly in the surrounds of the Canberra water supply dam.
Our tour included a quick lunch break at the Tidbinbilla Deep Space Complex, where a very good cafe caters for the needs of those who come to view this massive dish through which scientists from Australia's CSIRO probe the mysteries of the universe in conjunction with folk from NASA.
This is a very impressive area, as this photo courtesy of the official CDSCC/NASA
website shows. The dish itself is enormous. It is much larger than its (probably more famous) counterpart near Parkes, and certainly dwarfs that which was part of our daily landscape for the four months we spent in Carnarvon. Our schedule for the day did not allow for a tour of the complex....another for 'The List'.
For indeed we had other fish to fry. The 2015 Grand Final of that other oval ball code, the NRL, was due to begin in the early evening. With all the time we have spent in the eastern states over the past few years, I have developed some understanding of this game and a grudging respect for those involved. This particular encounter, which was to be an all Queensland affair (that's the NRL equivalent of an AFL final which does not include a Victorian team) had divided the household.....Dean and I were plumping for a Cowboys victory, whilst the girls had decided that the Broncos needed their support.
But before all this nonsense, there was the matter of food. We had undertaken to repay our hosts' generosity with a BBQ. A quick trip to the local shops (which are dotted throughout all the Canberra suburbs) where we found a first class butcher, and we were ready to roll.
As you may have gathered I am never happier than when standing over a good barby, apron on and tongs in hand. This was no exception.
The newly added back deck of Olivia and Dean's home was the perfect venue for a spot of al fresco dining on a mild Canberra evening. (I know 'mild' and 'Canberra' do not often go together at this time of the year, but we had cracked it!) We soon set to. As a quick aside, we still use the recipe for Livvy's marvellous potato salad!
And, of course, this was the time for a few 'holdiday snaps', of our wonderful hosts
and herself, getting in on the action with 'the boys'!
As it transpired, this very pleasant meal was but the precursor to an incredible evening, one on which we were treated to what all the pundits have agreed was the best NRL Grand Final ever played. But who won? The Cowboys, of course, who, having scored a try in the last 30 seconds of normal time to level the score (unheard of) then went on to win in 'golden point' overtime.
This had been a game which, if scripted as a Hollywood film, would have drawn a scathing critique for its improbability/fairy tale ending etc. But it happened. What a match!
As true gentlemen, Dean and I were generous in our condolences to our fair partners, but I suspect our largesse was viewed which some scepticism. As you might imagine, our meal had been liberally washed down with assorted products of both grain and grape. It had been equally necessary to ensure that our vocal chords had been well lubricated during the game.
Dean's proffered home made whisky night caps, which I have to say by that time tasted like a fine single malt, was probably not an entirely necessary adjunct to the evening's entertainment, but what the hell.....we had enjoyed a marvellous two days with these 'friends of the road' and were in no mood for bed.
The next morning brought with it a slightly different view of that decision, but today was to be the one of the shortest days on the road we had ever undertaken. Our destination was Yass, a mere sub 60 kms journey. More 'jollies' were looming!
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