Mallacoota!
(view on google maps)
Saturday (this past, the 18th), we awoke in Marlo for the penultimate day of our expedition to the far eastern end of Victoria. After probably eating a simple breakfast in our nice little hotel room, we checked out and went down to the shore of the Snowy River, where people had been so frolicksom the night before. It was perhaps cooler now than then but still a comfortable temperature, and dad wanted to go swimming. Mom and I suggested swimming across but he prudently pointed out every now and then a motorboat hoons down the river probably not looking out for swimmers, and the current in the middle is an unknown factor. So he swap upstream for awhile and then came back. While he did so I explored a nearby nature path along the bank, through literal littoral rainforest and vine thickets (I was sorely tempted to just substitute literal for littoral there but people probably would have assumed I just made a dumb mistake). As usual dad declared the swim to be great.
Then we commenced on our way. The first bit of the journey was parallel to the Snowy River, which was separated from the sea by a big brush covered sandbar for awhile. Then the road turned north and meandered through stately tall trees.
Once we rejoined the A1 Princes Highway (again I note this is the very highway that goes past my home, if we hadn't taken all these sidequests to see other things we could have done this whole journey on just this one road) and headed east on it, the road mainly took broad swoops through forested mountainous terrain. The trees were huge. This area had badly burned in the beginning of 2020 (remember when we thought the year was starting out badly with half of Victoria on fire and some other natural disasters and that was even before Covid showed up). We also noticed after awhile a suspicious... lack of roadkill. Obviously it's sad to see roadkill, but to see a complete absence in an environment that should have plenty (high speed two lane highway through thick forest) is ominous. It makes us think the animal population of the area has not yet come close to recovering.
Finally we got off the Princes highway, which continues from the eastern end of Victoria north all the way to Sydney (and if one were to follow it west from my house it takes an equally circuitous route to Adelaide at its other end). About twenty minutes on the smaller road to Mallacoota and... we were there! (about two hours after leaving Marlo)
"Some believe that the name came from 'malagoutha' a local Ganay Aboriginal term of uncertain meaning." (google result from "what does Mallacoota mean" ?) but there's an interesting either potential explanation or remarkable coincidence -- Mallacoota, generally regarded as a little paradise by many, means, my Iraqi coworker informs me, "paradise" in Arabic. Could be someone who named it knew some Arabic (and hey, isn't Walhalla, where we were earlier, also a sort of paradise in a non-Australian language). Honestly in balance I think it's probably a coincidence but it's still interesting to note.
Anyway, we discovered Mallacoota to consist of a small core of a town of houses and cafes surrounded by an extensive caravan park surrounding it on three sides and totalling 60-75% of the land area of the "town," and surrounding this a picturesque bay with many little boats moored up, a maze of reedy islands beyond. We were feeling a bit hurried because we still had a four hour drive to where we'd be staying the night. I perhaps had had a bit of "target fixation" getting us here but hey we made it. It was now around 14:00 and we figured we needed to be on the road again by 16:00.
We looked at the cafes but none of them that were open actually appealed to us greatly. We were keen on the bakery but it turned out to be closed. Mom was suggesting we just have cheese sandwiches again but I was at the end of my rope with gosh darn cheese sandwiches. So we went to get food at what appeared to be the most popular place, a chinese restaurant. While there we observed the clientel was positively geriatric. They hobbled about feebly, barely navigating the step at the front door. We got our bowls of stir fry and took them to a picnic beach by the bay (about from where the above picture was taken), and found the food to be thoroughly thoroughly bland. I reflected back on the clientel and mused that their customer base probably likes it that way.
Then we went on one of the shorter walks I had identified in the area. We were feeling really pressed for time but I felt like if we didn't go on a walk it would feel to much like we just came here and turned around. The walk was nice though, we heard many bird calls we hadn't heard before and at one point two smallish kangaroos (but bigger than wallabies) bounded across the trail just in front of us. There wasn't actually that much evidence that this area had burned, if it had, but there were a few blackened stumps. The big trees here seem to have survived and the smaller shrubbery thoroughly grown back.
Then we drove to the bay entrance, where the above picture was taken, and then it was time to get back on the road! This was a four hour drive back across land we'd just covered, but it was all beautiful and interesting so at least as a passenger I didn't mind it. I'd offered to do some of the driving but dad seems content to do all the driving himself, and other than commenting that it was a lot of driving he didn't really complain. We passed a few random signs for walking tracks I wouldn't have known about if I hadn't seen the signs there, and if we were in less of a hurry it might have been nice to check at least one of them out. So for future note they are the "MacKenzie River Rainforest Walk" and "Cabbage Tree Walk"
As is traditional for family road trips, we had some idle musingful conversations, like the subject of words that are almost the same but not, and whats the difference between them? Like I maintain there's subtle differences between "squish" and "squash," "floofy" and "fluffy" and "puttering" vs "pottering" about. I won't get into all of these (maybe a subject for their own entry?), but as to the last one, I think they both imply kind of doing various little tasks around the house, but while one might be accomplishing things while pottering about, one isn't really accomplishing anything while puttering about. And a special mention and this might literally be just a me thing, but I feel "hover" (hah-ver) and "hover" (huv-er) have subtly different meanings. Helicopters "huver," bumblebees "hahver."
Anyway the purple line in the map at hte top of this entry is the new area covered headed out West on return from Mallacoota. It was mostly forested hills and low intensity pasture land until bairnsdale (which dad mispronounced as Brains-dale and I'll never be able to say correctly again!), and more thoroughly agricultural land west of there. We arrive in the town of Sale to get groceries and were rather shocked by how empty the town was. Traralgon (pop 26,000) on a Thursday evening had been really happening, Sale (pop 16,000) on a Saturday evening around the same time was like a ghost town. Also like a god damn labyrinth, major roads seeming to dead end. We wanted to go to Coles because we're more familiar with it, but literally couldn't find a way to get to the front entrance of the store and settled instead for a Woolworths we stumbled upon.
Then we went to get KFC for dinner since we just wanted something quick. Here we had perhaps an error of differing national standards -- I never eat at KFC so I don't know the sizes of things, but my parents felt one piece of chicken for each of them would be sufficient and two for me. We asked for two breasts and two thighs but the bemulleted adolescent who took our order apparently interpreted that as two drum sticks and two breasts for some reason. And when my parents saw the small size of the portions they had gotten themselves they were very sad (I offered one of my two pieces, even though that was also insufficient for my appetite, but they declined). But that comes later because we took the food to the airbnb to eat there.
From the town of Sale we continued on to our airbnb down on Golden Beach, arriving there just after the sun had set. This bnb, when we had looked at hte listing, had said "sheets aren't included but can be provided for a small fee." We thought that was really odd, who travels with their own bedsheets?? But whats a small fee, $5? $10? So we booked it and sent the host an inquiry about sheets. He had responded with "no worries" and a phraseology which lead my dad to think the host understood we'd need sheets and was agreeing to provide them.. and the fact that the "small fee" was $60 a bed (!!!!!!) WTF! We could probably buy our own sheets for that much! We actually considered doing so. But despite a lot of grumbling we were committed.
Anyway, arriving at the place we found... NO SHEETS! And also no running water. And the host somehow had 4.83 star average and "super host" status. WTF. We sent him messages politely expressing our alarm and soon he was on the phone -- he hadn't thought we'd actually requested the sheets. He seemed reluctant to admit there were sheets on hand but eventually said they were in the locked garage and if we had a screwdriver we might be able to remove the lock deadbolt ... but that turned out to be removable simply by hand.
As to the water, the host said tehre'd probably been a power outage earlier in the day and the pump needed to be turned back on. Which required dad to open a hatch on the side of the house and crawl ten feet in the (utter darkness at this point, with flashlight), under the house to figure out the right buttons to push to turn on the pump.
And it's AFTER all this shenanigans, that we FINALLY sat down to enjoy our dinner, at which point we found ourselves looking at these meagre meagre portions. Fortunately we still had some leftover bland bland chinese food (it was so bland even now we didn't finish it and tossed the rest) and some other leftovers.
OTHER than all these problems the house was nice, and right on the beach (though the ocean wasn't visible due to the sand ridge running parallel to the beach). Dad did go look at hte ocean and report back to us, mom and I just appreciated the sound of waves crashing from the house. Also mom saw a possum on the fence, which, since it froze when she shined the light on it (playing possum, as it were), we were able to approach closely and have a good look at. This one had a naked tail, I think it was a ring tail possum -- the only other possum here I've had a good look at was "Sancho" in my garage, who had a floofy tail and is, I believe, a brushy tailed possum.
I still think these things are uglier than American opossums
And then we put the sheets on the beds and went to bed. The end (until tomorrow).
I still don't know if the host did indeed charge us the $60 or waived it in a desperate attempt not to get the less than stellar review he was clearly headed for. And for that matter I'll have to check with mom if dad did indeed give him less than five stars -- dad can be tooo nice sometimes, and I think while I could have actually forgiven the lack of water as an unforseen circumstance if the host seemed like he'd done everytihng reasonable to ensure a good stay, calling $60 a "small fee" loses my assumption of good faith.