We have crossed the Victorian border and for what’s its worth we may as well have crossed the solar system to mars. It is SO hot here. The day before, in Eden, we were in thermals and jumpers under a grey sky and today it is 45 degrees Celsius and climbing. Fourty-Five. That’s just inhumane. Never had the drought been more apparent to me than here and we aren’t even that far inland. Everything is dead and brown, the sheep are grazing on dust.
We spent the night at a free camp beside the Cann River which is a murky stagnant trickle of water trying to fight its way through a huge dry riverbed. All night and all morning massive water trucks lined up to pump water from this stagnant trickle. From the attitude and general vibe of the drivers I suspect that it’s not legally allowed, but hey, I won’t be dobbing anyone in. I’d probably be doing the same if my farm was as dry as these ones. While in Bega I marvelled at the size and lushness of the synthetically fertilised crops of corn, here they are stunted, shrivelled and brown. It’s actually quite frightening.
We had planned to drive straight to Melbourne to be with my sister for a week before catching the ferry to tasmania but driving across these brown dusty plains and past crispy dry forest the heat coming in the window was unbearable (we don’t have aircon). I’ve experienced hot days, but the only way I can describe this sensation is to liken it to sitting infront of a fan forced oven with the door open. The wind was so HOT! Once you got out of the wind it was significantly cooler. We just couldn’t take it any more so as soon as there was a turn off to the coast we took it and found ourselves at Lakes Entrance.
Of course there was not a single park in the shade and the only thing I could think of in my heat addled state was getting a cold drink, which is how we found ourselves at Albert & co. A seriously posh restaurant/bar attached to a 5 star hotel. The waitresses did a double take when I walked in the door drenched in sweat, pushing my cheap flimsy opshop stroller. Not the usual patron I gather. I must give them credit though because they were still exceedingly friendly and even bought out pens and paper for Yilla to draw so we could stretch out our stay in the air conditioned lobby for as long as possible.
But we couldn’t stay forever though.. once we walked back onto the street the wall of heat hit us and I exclaimed “HOLY MOTHER OF GOD” out loud. The short walk to the water was excruciating and swimming didn’t help anything, the water was warm and as soon as you got out the furnace-like wind would hit you with full force. I wet all of my clothes and was completely dry again in 5 minutes. That kind of heat really begins to mess with you and as I observed my thoughts becoming less and less coherent and my body more and more sluggish I began to become worried about our health, especially Yilla’s. Some of the people sweating motionless in the shade looked as if they were on the brink of death. This was getting abit scary. Luckily the modern world has all sorts of delights such as aircon and after a stroke of genius we sought refuge in the library. But not before hanging the nappies out to dry on the windscreen wipers. Convenient!
After we’d cooled down and I could think clearly I realised that there was no way we could camp in the van for the night. I deliberated and deliberated but finally decided to find a hotel room for the night. One with air-conditioning. A quick search turned up a relatively affordable option above a tavern in nearby Bairnsdale, and with a heavy heart I booked us in. I felt like I’d failed and was going against all of my morals. To pay $120 for one nights sleep in a bed when some people in the world wouldn’t make that much money in a year? Ugh. I argued with myself about it the whole 20 minute drive there but the hot wind was coming in the windows again and looking at Yilla’s red, sweaty, distraught face, and seeing how bone dry the forest all around was, I knew it was the right thing to do. And I am so glad we did. When we went downstairs for dinner the tavern restaurant was full of families taking refuge there because their nearby properties had become victim to bushfire. That was why the wind had been so hot, it was carrying the heat of acres of bushfire. I am so grateful we weren’t camped in the tinder-dry scrub that night!
Bairnsdale seemed abit like a big country nothing town, with lots of pubs and not much else to do. There definately wasn’t an organic scene! Although, we did find a nice Historic Grain Store that had been converted into a cafe to grab a quick breakfast in the morning, so we could get on the road to Melbourne as soon as possible before the day got hot again. Breakfast was incredible! Poached eggs with guacamole, feta, beetroot compote and dukkah. Maybe I had underestimated Bairnsdale!
We hit the road and drove as far as possible until Yilla cracked it which conveniently was as we were driving through Trafafalger which had its farmers market on, right beside the highway, but still a farmers market is a farmers market. We found some really beautiful produce and spelt sourdough bread here, perfect for lunch, but I wanted to smash out a few more kilometres before we ate. I knew we where just an hour or two from Melbourne and I started to become fixated on arriving and spending some downtime with my sister. So, onwards we drove, with me trying to entertain Yilla in any way possible. I have often thought it would be so interesting for non-parents to see what parents have to do while driving. For example conducting a full puppet show while driving a manual at 110 km/h! Anyway, after tickle fights, arm wrestles, ‘this little piggy’, peek-a-boo, I spy and singing every nursery rhyme in existence I had finally exhausted my distraction toolbox and Yilla had had enough. Only problem was that we were on a 5 lane highway with no nearby rest areas. Except one. McDonalds. No way. Yes way. We stopped there… and had a great time! The look on people’s faces when we sat down in a booth with our breadboard, knife, sourdough loaf and fresh salad ingredients and started making sandwiches. Golden. Yilla loved their techno coloured plastic playground and we played hide and seek amongst the restaurant tables despite the disapproving glances from onlookers. To Yilla’s delight they also had one of those wishing wells that makes the coins go round and round and round before finally dropping in the hole. The money was being donated to rural drought aid. I gave every cent I had.
Food Oasis 