Melbourne Continued Thursday 31st July

Everyone slept in that morning. David had come home late from the concert and was also finally getting used to being on holidays and not having to get up early. Even though the weather was looking decidedly Melbournish, we decided a day trip to the Dandenongs was in order. Swapping cars, we took David's up the ranges and headed to Emerald Lake Park where you can catch Puffing Billy. We were too late to catch a ride however and instead amused ourselves by looking at the Emerald Lake Park Model Railway which is the largest working model railway in HO scale in the Southern Hemisphere. David was initially skeptical, but almost as soon he entered he saw the photography potential and headed back to the car to grab his camera. We ended up spending ages in there with David taking quite a lot of photos. Yvette got chatting to the guy who owned it and he told us he had taken all his superannuation and bought it about five years ago. You can imagine the reaction when he rang and told his daughter what he'd bought. He has done an amazing amount of work in those years and turned it from something that was really quite ordinary into something that held our attention for ages. I could imagine kids would go nuts in there especially as there are little buttons you can press which make things move, lights flash and noises sound. After that we had a spot of lunch in the café on the lake where in winter you can hire rowboats and pedalboats. As we were leaving we passed a keen group of young kids about to go canoeing. Hopefully their skill level was high enough not to fall in the water.
After a bit of a driving tour looking at the mountains from the warmth and dryness of the car, we drove to the William Ricketts Sanctuary, a protected area of forest containing the sculptures of the well-meaning, but slightly odd William Ricketts. Ricketts spent a lot of time with aboriginal communities in the outback and this informs his works. He also had an odd Christian philosophy which mixed with the aboriginal imagery produced some interesting works. The sculptures are quite amazing though having been fired but not glazed and put into the forest where they have begun to darken, grow moss and become part of nature. The rain had started to become a little annoying by this stage and we headed back to the carpark and down into the Churinga café and lounge for a Devonshire tea which had some of the best scones I've had in a long time.
That night we were booked in for Jamon Sushi which is a very expensive sushi place in South Yarra, apparently one of the posh areas of Melbourne. This is one of David's favourite food places in Melbourne and has been for nine years or more. Over this time he has gotten to know the chef quite well and has taken some brilliant photos of his work. The food was quite nice and I tried smoked eel (unagi) for the first time ever. It's actually quite nice. However what wasn't nice at all was some kind of crab miso which was made of the crab's offal and the membrane separating the meat from the guts. Had other people not been there eating it, I would have probably refused however I felt my manliness was under scrutiny and had some on a piece of lavosh-like material. It was disgusting. Absolutely foul. It tasted like the gross orangey crap you occasionally accidentally eat from the heads of prawns. The most amusing thing of the night was having a smoke outside watching a guy exit a minimart wearing trackies and ugg boots take a wizz on a wall and then climb into his BMW 4WD. South Yarra may be posh, but money obviously does not buy class. Then again, he was a BMW driver so what can you expect?

Melbourne Continued Tuesday 28th - Wednesday 30th July

Yvette's favourite uncle died the last Wednesday before we left Cobargo and she decided to fly back to Sydney for the funeral. Luckily flights are quite cheap at the moment and managed to get a good deal on a return flight with Virgin Blue. She'd booked to fly out Tuesday morning and back Wednesday night. What we hadn't counted on was that David was going to a concert on Wednesday night and I would have to drive out to Melbourne airport by myself and pick Yvette up. I had the TomTom which made me feel a little better and David suggested he drive out to drop Yvette off on Tuesday morning and I could get an idea of the route. So we left about 9ish and it was quite an easy drive which took about 40 minutes. Having your airport a long way from the city does have its advantages in that Melbournians are not plagued by incessant aircraft noise the way we were in the inner west. It does, however mean that a taxi fare from the airport costs a small fortune. I don't know which is better. When it was overcast and the planes would fly lower and the sound would bounce off the clouds, we'd curse the planes in Sydney, however when we needed to pick someone off, drop someone off or catch a plane ourselves, we knew it was only 15 minutes drive or a $20 cab fare.
After dropping Yvette off, David decided we should have a look at the ill-fated, poorly executed development known as Docklands. Conceived along the lines of Darling Harbour, it is one of the rare occurrences where Sydney got it right and Melbourne buggered it right up. The old docklands area has been revamped and has shops, restaurants, a little amphitheater and is on the water. Nice enough, but do Melbournians really need another area that has shops, restaurants and amphitheaters? What was needed was a reason to go there and so a giant ferris wheel was built. Not as large as the London Eye, but considerably bigger than any fairground attraction. Unfortunately the wheel broke down a few months after opening (the owners blaming the extreme heat Melbourne had in summer) and is now sits like the giant white elephant it is quite possibly only attracting people such as David and myself who come to marvel at the complete stuff up and at how many people there aren't. The Docklands is actually a nice area and I imagine when it's not winter and it's not freezing cold in the shade, it would be a pleasant place to be. If you can imagine what Brisbane's Southbank would look like would be like after one of those bombs that kill all the people and leave the buildings intact hit it would look like, you'll have some idea. On the large projection screen near the amphitheater they were showing a Mets game but David wasn't interested enough to stick around and watch it. If you look at the photo of the statue of Kylie on my Flickr site, to the right of her bronze botbot you'll see Perez about to pitch.
After a little more of a driving tour around the city with David pointing out various buildings, we headed to Dights Falls inside Studley Park. These are very shallow, man-made falls on the Yarra but what is so amazing is that you feel like you are out in the bush when in fact you are only a few kilometers from Collingwood or Fitzroy. We took a few photos and then drove up to the lookout past the wealthy houses of Kew. From there, we went back to David's house and grabbed some of his photography gear and went down to the beach huts of Brighton. The light was fading fast and I managed to grab a couple of really nice shots of the huts before David gave me a lesson on flash photography. We started with one external flash and then went to two as the light disappeared altogether. This is what we were doing f you're wondering why there are so many photos of me on Flickr. Also the reason for some of the looks is that it was freezing cold down there. I'm sure if you zoomed in, you'd see the tears in my eyes. I felt a bit of a wuss though when a girl in a two-piece bikini walked past us after her evening swim in what passes for surf in Melbourne. She didn't even wrap her towel around her for crissakes. David and I packed up and headed back to Bentleigh where I grabbed some of the worst roast chicken I think I've ever tasted from one of the takeaways on the high street. Most of it went into the wheelie bin where it continued to stink like an ill-considered fart.
Wednesday was going to be a lazy day. David had to go into the city about 4ish to meet a friend for the concert and I'd made plans to catch up with my friend Emily for lunch in Hawthorn. There was one important thing to do however, and that was to go to USA Foods - The All American Grocery Store (located in nearby Moorabbin). When Emily first moved from London to Melbourne I did a bit of an internet search for shops that stocked UK foods in Melbourne of which there are a couple. I thought, well there must be places doing the same thing for American foods. Oddly enough, there were none in Sydney but one in Melbourne. I had considered ordering some stuff from them, but when you add postage to the already expensive prices, it was hard to justify. However, as I was in town now, a quick visit was entirely justified. Why American foods you may ask - don't we have enough Americanisation here already? True enough, but even though you can get Oreo cookies in Woolies and Coles now and even Hershey bars and Reeses Pieces in some corner stores, what has failed to make it into the country is two of my favourite food creations - Hostess Twinkies and Cap'n Crunch. Now I have written at length about Twinkies on The Road To Hell, so I won't repeat myself here, but one of the things we are severely lacking in this country is a decent range of highly sugared breakfast cereals of dubious nutritious value. Sure we have things such as Fruit Loops and Cocoa Pops but we can not hope to compare with such brilliant creations as Trix, Lucky Charms (which have marshmallows in them!), the three flavours of Cap'n Crunch (including Peanut Butter Crunch) and Cookie Crunch which is a breakfast cereal made to look and taste like tiny chocolate chip cookies. Genius. Unfortunately, as these cereals were never introduced when I was a kid, there will be little hope now as Australia deems it has a child obesity epidemic. Tip for parents: if your child is fat it is your fault, not the food companies or the advertisers. Take some fucking responsibility for fuck's sake and stop letting them spend all afternoon on the computer or the Playstation. Oh, and say "no" once and a while. (Climbs down from soapbox).
David doesn't share my obsession for things American and watched with bemusement as I filled my basket with things I hadn't tasted since I was 12 and in L.A. I ended up with some Trix, some Cap'n Crunch, 4 Twinkies, a Hostess Cupcake, some instant mashed potatoes claiming to be as good as the real thing (as yet untried), some cinnamon Tic-Tacs, some apple strudel Pop Tarts and some Altoids mints (curiously strong donchaknow?). Of all of this, the only thing David would even try was a Twinkie and I'm sure that's only because of how well known they are. By this stage it was getting on and we had to get back. We also just had to go by a JB Hi-FI for a quick look.
Around 12ish, I once again put my fate in the hands of the TomTom and drove across town to Emily's place in Hawthorn for lunch and a catch-up. I'm sure it was quite disappointed as it found no dirt roads it could send me down en route. Em made a delicious lunch of garlic bread and cheeses and paté and we had some wine and chatted about stuff.
I left about 3 to get back before David left. The next few hours were spent working up the courage needed to drive through Melbourne, by myself, at night, in the intermittent rain. It started off well enough. The TomTom said it would be about 35 minutes, so I left a little early to allow for delays along the way. What I'd failed to take into consideration was the sheer amount of roadworks that seem to happen everywhere at night in Melbourne. Most of the freeway was being closed down to one lane in one direction which did nothing to help my anxiety. In a way I guess the slowing down of traffic was a good thing but it meant that I couldn't just pick a lane and stick to it. Also, for some reason the street lights weren't on for one section. By the time I reached the airport pickup zone, my nerves were a bit frazzled. This wasn't helped by parking in the wrong area and being rudely beeped by some asshat in a van. Once I had someone else in the car however, it was a bit easier and the drive back was quite a lot less stressful.

Melbourne Sunday 26th - Monday 27th July

"Give you all of Sydney Harbour - all that land, all that water - for that one sweet promenade." - Paul Kelly 'From St Kilda to Kings Cross'.

Now that I am no longer a Sydneysider, I am no longer geographically obliged to be rude about Melbourne. I am free to be impartial. Possibly even complimentary.
Seriously though, Melbourne is a wonderful city. A lot of people have likened Sydney and Melbourne to two sisters. Sydney is the more attractive sister, while Melbourne, being a lot plainer, has had to become interesting. This could be one reason. It could also be that Sydney has better weather and that Sydneysiders have a lot more outdoor options (including real beaches) and have not developed an indoor, café/restaurant culture. It could also be decades of corrupt Labor government in NSW in the pockets of developers having no vision and very little care for Sydney's progression. There is also the NSW Hotelier's Association who seem to think that New South Welshmen like to drink in giant beer barns with loud, offensive music, 360˚ televisions, TABs and wall-to-wall pokies. Their chairman recently suggested (and I'm paraphrasing here) that Sydneysiders wouldn't want poofy little winebars.
So yes, Melbourne does seem to have a superior eating and drinking culture. It's okay to be a reasonably priced, excellent food restaurant. It doesn't have to be in fashion, or the place to be seen, or even in the right suburb. Could I live in Melbourne? Well, if they could only do something about the weather...

After nearly a month out of a big city, it was both exciting and annoying to be back in one. Exciting in that there were lot of new things to see and do (and flashy shiny things), annoying in that there were lots of people. And city people are not as friendly as the country folk. Especially old Mediterranean women who seem to think it is perfectly acceptable to bump, push, poke and generally jostle anyone in their immediate vicinity.
Sunday was market day. There was a local car boot markets at the railway station carpark near David. It was a real mix of utter rubbish and some genuinely interesting stuff. I bought an old Champion Ruby tobacco tin for Yvette. From there we caught a train into the city. One of the odd things about Melbourne for a Sydneysider is that there are level crossings everywhere. Cars and trains run on the same level throughout the city. This also means at some stations you walk over the train lines. To someone from Sydney and previously London, this was just plain weird. And a little bit freaky quite honestly.
Bentleigh is not very far from the city and we were in the city in no time and walking up towards the Queen Victoria Markets. I stopped along the way as David pointed out and explained a hook turn to me which is what Melbournians do when they want to turn right in front of trams. Sometimes. It sounds confusing if anyone explains it to you, but when you see it in practice, it's actually quite straightforward.
The Queen Vic Markets are absolutely amazing. The first part we walked into was the deli section which was like streets and streets of tiny deli shops all joined together. Imagine if there was a little town whose only income derived from delicatessens and you have some idea. Cheeses I'd never heard of, salamis hanging everywhere - to tell the truth it was almost overwhelming. Almost. After a quick, head-spinning look around we decided to come back to delitown and grab some stuff before we left. The rest of the markets has fresh food (meats, seafoods, vegetables and fruit) and then a general merchandise area which is massive. If you can imagine Paddy's Markets in Sydney, only less shit, you'll have some idea. After a very entertaining look around and a Spanish doughnut (which is more like a fried dough stick sprinkled with icing sugar) we actually didn't buy a thing. I was tempted but some not-very-genuine Arsenal and Mets clothing, but decided against it. Yvette wanted some Ugg boots but it was hard to tell which were real and which weren't. The stallholders were unhelpful to the point of rudeness. After a quick lunch we popped back into the deli section and grabbed some salami and cheese, grabbed a few veges and headed back into the city. We decided to try and make the Southbank Arts and Crafts markets before they closed and headed over the bridge near Flinders St Station and down into a large collection of stalls. The Southbank markets are quite well run in that stall holders are allowed a stall only once a month. That way, every weekend is different. The quality of things for sale vary from arts to well, crafts of a dubious nature. A lot more polished and certainly less chaotic than the Queen Vic Markets, it was still an interesting look-round. After the markets, we had had quite enough of walking around and headed back to David's and made some pizzas with the goodies from delitown.


Monday we decided we'd go and see the Dali exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria. Quite a comprehensive look at Dali, it features his work not only in drawing and painting, but in film-making, jewelry design and set design. The only real disappointment was that 'Christ of Saint John of the Cross' and 'Persistence of Memory' weren't there. Oh, and that the Gallery had decided to let two groups of school children and a woman with a crying child through at the same time as us. I felt like asking for a refund or at least a discount. Seriously, the larger a group of schoolchildren, the further down the evolutionary ladder they slip. Either that or they'd learnt their crowd manners from the aforementioned old ladies. Still, the art was amazing - the hordes and the noise could not spoil that.
That night we headed down the Espy in St Kilda for dinner and for a look at the pub, famous for being the venue for RockWiz (and the opening credits of Secret Life Of Us). The pub is fantastic and is now one of my all-time favourite pubs ever. For one thing, it has Hoegardden on tap, for another it has been mostly untouched. No asshat interior designer has fucked it up with blonde wood, chrome and glass.* After a huge meal, some beers (they have Fat Yak on tap too!) we sat around until the band came in and threatened to play. It seemed that setting up and showing off in front of the WAGs was to take as long as their actual set. We never found out however and left before they managed to play a note. I wasn't particularly upset. David then took us a bit of a night drive around the St Kilda area before heading back to Bentleigh.


*Seriously - have interior designers never been into a real pub? They are not meant to look like they belong in a magazine. They should look and feel like a drunkard's living room. If you are an interior designer and are reading this, please punch yourself in the head until you pass out.

Yanakie to Melbourne - 25th July

Waking up in the Black Cockatoo cabins, over looking The Prom (as locals supposedly call it) was fantastic. The clouds were low over the horizon and the sun was just peeping through so we could pretend it was sunrise when it was in fact about 8 o'clock. After a leisurely breakfast and a slow car pack, we reluctantly left. There was still nobody around, both the cabins and main house still having no sign of life.
The plan was to head along the coast road into Melbourne, however I needed a BP service station (more on this in later posts) and I had also noticed and amusingly-named town which needed visiting - Poowong. Those who know me know that my humour leans towards the juvenile and dictates that even vaguely rude-sounding towns must be visited. Smoo Cave and Twatt (both in Scotland) being prime examples.
The TomTom again decided a gravel track would be more interesting and sent us through some gorgeous countryside en route to the scatologically-themed town. Poowong is tiny. There is a Post Office, a service station, a café, a hall (called Poowong Hall), a large building of indeterminate purpose with a giant "POOWONG" painted on it, and a general store. It was to this last shop I headed to hopefully purchase lots of postcards, write "Hahahahahahahaha!" on the back, and send to everyone I know. The shop seemed deserted and it was only after triggering an old-fashioned bell upon entering that a small, buggy-eyed woman appeared from somewhere out of the dark recesses of the building. I asked her about postcards and she said they didn't have any but they did have a bumper sticker for $5. Her tone implied that she knew exactly why I wanted postcards and that quite possibly I was not the only one who had ventured off the beaten path simply to visit a town that starts with "poo". I of course played dumb and pretended to be passing through on the way to Korumburra, but I think her eyes gave her magical powers and she saw straight through me. After the obligatory photo outside the mystery building, Yvette tried the local café for postcards. Apparently the Post Office had them, but being Saturday they were shut. She seemed oddly surprised that people wanted Poowong postcards. Was the hilly dairy country really that interesting? On the way out we passed the Poowong Milk Depot which gave us one last giggle.
Heading down to Inverloch took us through the beautiful mountainous dairy country from which we could eventually see the south coast again. As it was Saturday there were more cars on the road then we had been used to which was a little annoying, but somehow we coped. The town of Inverloch seems geared towards summer visitors from Melbourne. There is a lot of touristy shops and real estate agents with windows full of weekender properties for wealthy Melburnians. Enticed by the promise of 50 different kinds of pies advertised by the local bakery, we parked and headed in. Although there did seem to be 50 pies listed on a large board, not all were available, in particular the two vegetarian ones Yvette was interested in. Do vegetarians not visit the south coast in Winter? In the end she settled for a bacon and egg pie which apparently could have used some cheese.
After a not-very-successful attempt to make some brewed coffee in the car (the brewing worked, the coffee tasted awful) we took the winding, scenic route along the coast road via Cape Paterson. It was quite windy and therefore quite cold and we only stopped once at Eagle's Nest lookout to look out over Venus Bay and to take a few photographs. The road continued on until it turned into the Bass Highway which took us in towards Melbourne.
The freeways into Melbourne are wide and easy to navigate and it was surprising to see so much farmland so close to the city. Coming from cities such as Brisbane and Sydney whose urban sprawl-cancer spreads in all directions, it was heartening. This time the TomTom was good and took us directly where we needed to go, quickly and without any strange detours or road choices. We arrived at my friend David's place about 4pm and after unpacking and catching up decided the local pub would be a good place for dinner. A little overpriced for a suburban hotel, the food was still good and the servings massive. Coupled with a Guinness and a Carlton Draught it was just what we needed. David's spare bed futon is insanely comfortable and even though it wasn't a long day of driving, we slept very, very well. Again.

Marlo to Yanakie - 24th July

Today was going to be a big drive. We had planned on staying at Port Albert but on advice from my friend David in Melbourne, we decided to look further afield. After looking at various B&Bs around the national parks, I consulted the Lonely Planet which recommended some cabins outside a tiny place called Yanakie on the way to Wilsons Promontory. At $130 a night, they were slightly over our budget, but they sounded fantastic. When I called however, the woman who answered told me they were having a winter special and that it would be only $110. Sold and sold - we were booked in.

Leaving Marlo reasonably early (9.30) we avoided Lakes Entrance (again on a friend's recommendation) and again headed back up into the hills to a town called Bruthen where we filled up, checked out the local op shop and tested the quality of the local bakery's baked goods. From here you can head up into the Snowys however, as was explained to me by the service station owner, you need to stop and fit chains to the car tyres. Hmm...

Port Albert was going to be our lunch stop as the fish and chips there were not only recommended by Alf and Jane but had won awards. Where and what awards they had won wasn't clear, but we had to try them. The drive from Bruthen through Bairnsdale and on was again, lovely forest country with very few people on the roads. It was only spoiled by entering the town of Sale where we stopped briefly and departed as quickly as we could. The Lonely Planet puts it diplomatically - "has little to excite the traveler".
Next stop was Port Albert which seemed practically deserted. Perhaps it was the cold wind coming off Bass Strait, or perhaps it was because hardly anyone seemed to live there. We found the aforementioned fish and chips and they did live up to their reputation. Toughing out the cold, we found a table and ate our food under the watchful glare of a gang of rather forward seagulls. After lunch, we drove past the accommodation I had been looking at online and were both glad we'd decided to look further afield. I'm sure Port Albert is lovely in Summer but in Winter, it's pretty much a ghost town. A windy, cold ghost town.
After a small detour to check out Port Welshpool, another possible stay and another deserted coastal town we were happy we weren't staying in, we hugged the coast road around to Yanakie. In Toora we took a quick detour up a rather steep hill to check out a rather impressive wind farm. Obviously they knew what they were doing when they chose the location - the wind was blowing hard and the noise from the windmill blades was incredible.
I had programmed the location of The Black Cockatoo cabins into the TomTom and we had been using it to guide us around. When I asked for directions it asked me if I wanted to avoid unpaved roads and I said 'no', assuming that the cabins might be on a dirt road. What it then decided was that the quickest way to get to where we were going was to get off the Princes Highway and follow a gravel track called Black Swamp road. As we drove along, surrounded only by farmland, cows and hedges, meeting no other traffic and with no mobile phone reception we wondered what the TomTom was thinking. Still, we didn't break down and it was a very pretty drive. Eventually we met the main road we probably should have come in on and in no time we were at Black Cockatoo Cabins.
After 7 hours on the road we were looking forward to a lie down and possibly a hot bath however there was nobody in the reception area which seemed to be the back door of the owner's house. Two bemused dogs watched us through the window. After leaving a note, I found a receipt for our night's accommodation which had the cabin number so we headed down, found the key in the door and unpacked.
The view was stunning. The front of the cabin was all glass and looked out onto Corner Inlet on the eastside of Wilsons Promontory. Neither of the two other cabins were occupied and with nobody in the main house, we were completely alone looking out over farmland and water. It was a little bit odd, but liberating and absolutely wonderful. We were even more glad that Port Albert and Port Welshpool had been avoided. I really was quite tired after the drive and had a bit of a lie down while Yvette filled up the bath for a long overdue soak. We collaborated on an easy dinner of pasta and finished the night with watching So You Think You Can Dance before crashing out.

Cobargo to Marlo - July 23rd

Well, we knew the day would come when we would have to leave Alf and Jane's but we didn't expect it to come around so quickly. The two weeks of rest and relaxation flew by and suddenly it was time to pack and start the trip. We will be eternally grateful to the Solti's for a) suggesting we should take a long break between leaving Sydney and traveling and b) giving us the time, place and space to do so. As such, it was was again with mixed emotions that we once again got on the move.
Our last night was Wednesday night and Alf made an absolutely amazing pumpkin gnocchi with a bacon butter sauce. We dragged out the absinthe and had a couple of those as well as a few wines and beers. I had to play the boring grown-up and call a halt at midnight as the drive the next day was about 4 hours. It was a shame, it was one of those nights that we could have drunk and talked until the early hours.
Thursday morning was not too bad considering. We showered, ate, drank lots of coffee and packed. Somehow, even though we now had less than when we arrived, packing the car was still like some insane jigsaw (which Yvette managed with aplomb) and the car seemed just as full. Saying goodbye to Alf and Jane was a wrench and for the first hour we were both feeling a bit sad.
We had been told by a Cobargo local that the Princes Highway was not the best option and that it would be better to take the Snowy Mountains highway and then the Monaro highway down south. It meant heading up into the mountains on a fairly windy road, but the views and the landscape were beautiful. I had never seen alpine gum forest and like a Sunday driver on valium, we pootled along taking it all in.
We had been told to stop in Cann River as it had a great op shop and bakery and so we did. The op shop was closed and looked like it had been abandoned the previous winter. Luckily the bakery was open and we grabbed some bread and then some other groceries at what passed for the local supermarket. From there it was a shortish drive down to Marlo and the TomTom took us the back way which was still a great road and we saw no other car for at least half an hour. We arrived in Marlo and found out way to the caravan park where we had booked in. It was very basic, but large and clean and warm and well within our budget. After unloading the basics from the car, we headed down to the water which turned out to be quite close to the park. We took some lovely shots just as the sun was going down over the lakes and then walked back up the hill and popped into the pub for a bit of a break. The Marlo pub is a lovely large old wooden building with a large front lawn that overlooks the lakes and the south coast sea. After a couple of small beers (it seem Victorians don't have schooners) and a quick look at the menu, we decided that the pub was the best option for dinner and popped back to our room to chill out a bit and wait for the bistro to open at 6.
The fisherman's basket seemed like the best option so we ordered one to share. It was a combination of battered fish, fresh steamed fish, salt and pepper squid, calamari, chips and salad plus one lonely oyster which remained uneaten. Neither of us like the slimy little buggers. The locals, and I assume regulars, at the pub were incredibly friendly and as our first real experience with a group of Victorians, they were perfect ambassadors. Still a little tired from the night before and with me feeling the drive, we left early and went back to our room and were both asleep before 8.30.

Photos

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