ajft

Last chance for a bike ride for the year — “Let's go for an easy ride down to Mordialloc,” says Evan. Yeah, right. He's been up at 6am every day for the past three months, clocking up 300km a week and getting faster and faster... I've just been sitting around or riding to work! A hot and tiring 68.3km by the time I got home, that would be, um, err... 8,520km for the 2003 year, not counting rides when I didn't have my odometer with me, or was on another bike, or it just wasn't working.

>

Lazy hot day at home, I'm on holiday, not feeling too guilty that Jo's back at work...

Chased up Australian Geographic, “where's my subscription?” I thundered. Not quite, just a query to find out why I haven't received number 72 or 73. No idea, they say, but there's another copy on its way as soon as the warehouse re-opens next week.

With Jo's car off the road due to the oil leak, we decided to venture out this evening to a friend's barbecue on the tandem. Only its second ever expedition — I wonder when we stop counting the individual rides? More fun and games man-handling it down the stairs, and then through the barricades at the pedestrian underpass at Burnley station. We're getting the hang of riding it, I'm remembering to warn about pot-holes and speed-humps, and to change down gears before stopping!

Naomi's barbecue was partly to catch up with friends, and partly to try out the telescope that she's borrowed for the summer. Unfortunately none of us really had any idea about setting it up correctly, and the minimalist instruction manual from the Russian manufacturer didn't really help. Still, we eventually managed to find the moon! Amazing to view the craters, but annoying to have to keep adjusting everything to keep it within view. One of the guys then tried to point it to a planet, we think it was mars, but even with it centred perfectly in the smaller site-scope, nothing we did could make it visible in the main telescope — we weren't even sure if the two were lined up properly.

With one last chance to see some nieces for the next few months it was over to my sister's for lunch, a barbecue and a stepping stone on the way back home. Drove along the back-road from Bungendore to Collector, mum warned us that the sign on one of the turnoffs was hard to spot — sure enough, I drove straight past then turned around in a well-worn gravel patch — we were not first! Too far from Lake George to see anything, just a narrow country road through the bush, degenerating into a mass of pot-holes in places.

As usual, Kathy had her hands full of twins. She's loving it, as is Cec. It's definitely keeping them both busy! They still manage to get away to shows and show-jumping, I've no idea how it all fits together. Makes me feel very disorganised. A few more photos of them all — I finally managed to finish the APS film that's been in the camera since November 2001 — and all too soon it was time to leave.

It'll be fascinating to see what's on that film, once I bought the digital camera I just didn't use the Elph much anymore. Too expensive in processing, even if it is a little bit smaller.

Driving, driving, driving... back in the car at three, off up the Federal highway nearly to Goulburn, turn left, drive for seven hours, get back home to Melbourne. Somewhere along the way Jo's car seems to have started spraying oil out under the engine, no warning lights came on, neither of us noticed, but as soon as we got to the city and slowed down we could smell it burning on the exhaust. Too tired to do anything, too dark in the garage and complicated under the car anyway.

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Last minute Christmas shopping panic — everyone else's, not mine! First day of my break, tired from last night's late finish, I wandered up the street at about eleven to gather my thoughts and look around. The more frenetic the crowds got, the more relaxed I felt, their panicing only seemed to emphasise the fact that I had absolutely nothing to do!

Called past the Tennyson building, a lovely old warehouse that's been empty for months. I'd been hoping that it would be redeveloped in a “sensitive” way, maybe keeping the entire old building, or even just the façade. But no, come the first of January, the bulldozers are moving in and the place is being demolished — presumably to make way for more non-descript three-storey townhouse apartments. At least I managed to capture a couple of photos before it vanishes.

Lunch, a little shopping, a leisurely walk and then home for a siesta — all preparation for the long drive up to Yass.

Phew! Just remembered to pay the rent before we close down for Christmas. As always when not at work, its a pain trying to use Konquerer or any other non-Microsoft browser when trying to access businesses over the Internet. After logging in about three times I finally managed to get the applet to load and display my account details!

Too early for New Year's resolutions? Maybe next year I need to tidy up all the loose ends of this site. Too many things that aren't quite right. Too many pages where I've started to say something, but then left it empty as a place-holder. I like the idea of a random photo being included each day, just as a reminder of what I've got!

Work finished early, it always seems a bit pointless on the last few days of the year. Nothing gets done, the jobs are still there, but nobody is interested. I'd feel ripped off if I took leave though — why waste a day of leave when in exchange there is only half a day of work?

Early dinner then off to the Corner Hotel for a Christmas institution — the Mick Thomas Christmas shows. It used to be the Weddoes', for the last few years Mick has been back with his new band — and visitors. There's a tension between what he'd like to play, and the audience stuck in a time-warp, all these very blokey blokes all wanting to chant and swill beer and stomp around and pretend that they're still young and single and at the old Central Club gigs.

A full page article in the Age on Mick and the shows seemed to result in sold-out audiences and far more of the old WPA fans.

First support act was a one-man play performed up on the rooftop, “A Party in Fitzroy.” Very evocative, and exceptionally well done, in what could have been a hostile environment of drinkers and talkers.

Then time for a drink and to sit and talk and watch the sun go down from the rooftop beergarden — first time I've ever managed to get up here! You can see the beergarden from the train, I've thought of heading up there a few times, but each time its either been closed or I was waylaid, or something else came up. Finally up there, a refreshingly un-renovated outdoor oasis, just far enough up from the traffic to be isolated.

Back downstairs in time to catch Nick Barker as first support with his Backyard Six — although whether that's the name of the band or just the name of the latest album I'm not sure. Good as ever, Nick and the band just looked as though they were having so much fun to be there. Covered old songs and new, finishing with a balls-out rocker of “Stone Hearted.”

Next support was Git, a band I've never really enjoyed. Just too much a whining country girl band for me. They seem fairly light-hearted, but I just can't get into their music.

Finally the moment we were all waiting for, eleven o'clock and Mick and the band came on. Two sets and an encore, finishing on the dot of one a.m. There seemed to be a lot more of the older Weddoes material than at previous Sure Things gigs, maybe that newspaper article self-fulfilled by attracting all the old fans. Sure enough, there were plenty of half-drunk neckless yobs stomping around, arms around each others' necks in blokey mateship and screaming out for songs from ten years ago! As always, the final set had the stage filled, Nick Barker, Sarah, Suzannah and Trish — the three women from Git — and Michael Barclay joining the four members of the Sure Thing for a couple of songs.

Up and out of bed early today — well, early for me! After a few too many weekends where I've managed to justify staying at home, or sleeping in, or not going riding, I think it's finally time that I really did get out on my bike and train for the Alpine Classic! Relying on native ability just isn't going to work for 200km of mountain climbs!

The Duke/Myers family barbecue at Shoreham provided the impetus, all I needed to do was ride down there and join them for lunch. Simple really, apart from Jo not being able to quite remember where I was meant to go. Tentative directions and an instruction to phone for help if I got lost!

A wonderful cool morning as I headed off down to St Kilda, onto Beach road and keep heading south. A quick hello to Pete as he was arriving at his shop and then total mayhem — a triathlon had closed Beach road from Brighton to Black Rock and everyone was being redirected onto suburban back-streets. There were cyclists and cars everywhere, nobody seemed to know where they were, or where they were heading, and it was a wonder that I didn't see anyone knocked over with the way they were all tearing along, trying desperately to get further south and back onto Beach road.

Gradually increased in temperature as we got to Mordialloc and then on down to Frankston. As usual, some idiot tried to knock me off my bike in Frankston — petrol-head central. Surprisingly, it wasn't a commodore with P-plates, this time it was an elderly bloke, he sped past flicking my elbow with his mirror — obviously too hard to pull out and go around a cyclist. His next stunt was to stop at the traffic lights and have the passenger throw open the door and step out directly in my path.

Up Oliver's Hill, then through the hills to the Mornington turnoff, pausing to fall ungracefully off my bike at a set of traffic lights. Major embarrassment — the rains of the last week had made one of my cleats a little rusty and I was just a fraction too slow in unclipping when I stopped!

Mornington was busy, café goers and shoppers, then through the hilly twisty bit around the coast to Dromana. Safety Beach was another surprise — the entire road had been dug up through the middle of the town, so once again I had to detour through back streets — and I didn't realise that Safety Beach was big enough to have back streets!

Just after Dromana is the left-turn for Arthur's Seat. Rounding the corner is a very demoralising sight, the road seems to go under the freeway and then straight up the hill like a ski-ramp in reverse. Luckily that isn't the way to the top, the road up the hill is hidden behind the freeway and zig-zags its way up through four kilometres of forest, gaining about 300 metres in altitude. Steep climbing, and hot, since the sun was now beating down. I was going slowly enough to marvel at the size of the bull-ants crossing under my tyres. Also had plenty of time to check out the chairlift pylons and cables, now repaired after their collapse a year or so ago.

From the top of Arthur's Seat it was about ten kilometres to Shoreham, rolling downhill most of the way — shorter and quicker than I'd expected. Only the final turnoff at the end of the Redhill-Shoreham road nearly fooled me, I couldn't see the signs and didn't realise at first that I had to go straight ahead. Turning left, I glanced back and spotted the sign, crossed the road and coasted the last few hundred metres down to the town. Just over a hundred kilometres, less than I'd expected, three and three-quarter hours, and maybe there's a chance that I'll be fit enough for the Classic!

Perfect timing, I arrived just in time to chat and cool off before the barbecue was lit, and just as the clouds started cooling everything down. Over lunch the clouds turned first to a few spots of rain, gradually increasing and forcing us under cover. Two small, excited, noisy and very tired nephews occasionally forced us back out into the open.

After a long hot day, I was glad to be getting into the car to be driven home. Especially since the rain kept increasing, becoming a solid downpour by the time we'd returned to Melbourne. Drivers on the freeway were doing their usual frightening best to tail-gate at 100km/hr in pouring rain and low visibility. Worst of all were the semi-trailers, up higher their drivers could see, or just didn't give a damn, and kept on thundering past, intimidating everything and everyone slower out of their path — Professional Drivers indeed.

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Apache Junction Fire District — Fire, EMS, Safety and Health. They also have the domain http://ajfd.org/. One letter difference, and today I'm on the receiving end of a well-meaning, but miss-addressed Christmas greeting!

Little things that stick in your mind, trivial things, but curiosities nonetheless. For the last twelve months — at least — there's been a flattened beetroot can squashed into the road on Clayton road. I see it every day. It first appeared as a row of four or five purple smudges, ending in a bent tin where it had fallen off a truck. Gradually it moved to its resting place, becoming flatter and flatter, more firmly embedded into the tarmac. Once or twice a week I ride over it — clack, clack. Today it's gone. A trivial amusement.

Another stinking hot day. Cicadas screaming in the trees as a rode to work.

The ITS Christmas lunch was held today, three hours of fun and excitement and a short speech. A sit down affair in the University club, with too much red wine and undercooked rissoles — ok, the ones I had were raw. A truly revolting feeling biting into a mouthful of luke-warm raw mince under a burnt crust.

What started as an accidental photo of the back of a colleague's head turned into a minor challenge — to capture portraits of the entire Communications and Networks group, from behind. Not sure how successful I was, or even if I can identify them all now I've got them!

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Oh dear, I just haven't been paying attention to the important things going on in the world — that latest batch of spams purporting to offer me nude videos of Paris Hilton, seems that there is one... somewhere. I guess it made a change from the 30 or 40 a day offering to clean my colon for me, what that says about the American publics' obsession with bowels I don't know — for we all know that the Internet is American, and that everyone on the Internet is American....

Oh damn, I said nude video and Paris Hilton together in one web page. Google bait for sure. Hi there spiders and search engines!

Need to get out more! So out we did go. Out for a walk around the river, downstream to the Burnley wharf redevelopment. I was curious whether it was all still there after the floods last week!

Its an old quarry, left over from excavations of the river channel, building works in Richmond, and construction of the freeway. For years there's just been a large stagnant pond hidden between the freeway and the electrical substation, with a small wharf and some of the river maintenance craft moored. Recently the grounds around it have been landscaped and opened back up the public, and access is possible either from the road or cyclepath.

Then off to catch up with some of Jo's friends in the beergarden at PA's, and a chance to get one step closer to photographing all the pubs of Richmond!

Spent a lazy few hours sitting in the shade under the vines, drinking beers and catching up with friends. We hadn't seen Neale since our wedding in April!

Then this evening, finally! Off to see Matrix Revolutions this evening. Ho hum, what a dud. Blam, blam, blam. Explosions. Shootings. No style, no suspense, but plenty of action for the fourteen year-olds.

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MLP

[http://www.markschenk.com/cssexp/]

CSS / Experiments

Our benevolent leaders lashed out and paid $25 for the group to go out to lunch to celebrate Christmas — food only, no alcohol to be paid for. A couple of people had suggested Maxy's in Glenhuntly road Elsternwick — mostly because it was near to where they lived, not necessarily near to work! Off we trouped, in we went, down we sat, then out came the food.... Wow! The large trays of assorted dips, breads, salads and calamari were sufficient to fill nearly everyone, but that was only the entrée! These were whisked away and out came two massive trays of meat. Ribs, chops, sausages, schnitzels, kebabs... more food than I think I normally see in a month.

Completely stuffed, we somehow managed to waddle out the door and make it back to Monash to attempt to work for the rest of the afternoon!

Actioned — my least favourite word of the moment. Some colleagues seem to insist on using it, its one of those bureaucratic nonsense words, like the euphemistic, wishy-washy issue that is used by those too mealy-mouthed to say what they really mean. If something is a problem, then say that its a bloody problem!

Browsing around more geography resources, stumbled on MultiMap again. I guess the following is useful:

Address:         Johannesburg, Gauteng (PWV), South Africa
X:3125000 m Y:-2999900 m    26:09:34S (-26.1594), 28:04:21E (28.0724)

Now I need to go back and re-anotate all my South African photos and journal entries for December 2000, January 2001!

I think I've got enough of a hang of this RDF stuff to start adding it in here.... My FoaF file has been present for quite a while, but now it's got links to http://ajft.org/index.rdf. One thing I can't seem to make up my mind about is whether to munge together all the RDF data about individual pages, images and indexes into one big file a'la Norman Walsh's “knows.rdf”, or to keep all the bits seperate, and link between them with rdfs:seeAlso. I think I'll choose the latter.

Ho hum, another day, another stupid motorist tries to drive into me while she's chatting on the phone. White Ford, a Festiva or something like that, PRZ-291.

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An early start to the day — finally I've been convinced that I really do need to train for the Alpine Classic — that day-to-day rides to and from work just aren't likely to be enough preparation! Six o'clock wake up, breakfast and wait... and wait... and wait some more. The phone rings; Kelvin has had another puncture — of course — and so they'll be a little late to pick me up. I sat around outside watching and listening to the morning's bird-life, spotting a butcher bird that I'd never seen before on the neighbour's roof.

Off to the east towards Launching Place, navigating by memory since Evan's melways was lost in Wednesday's flood. A moment of confusion and we end up almost back at Lilydale before finally finding the right turn-off, then events conspire against us with the local CFA blocking the road since someone has just managed to drive head-on into a tree. More detours down back lanes, finally back on the main Warbutton road, finally get to Launching Place for the 8:30am start — only about an hour and a half late!

As we're getting the bikes off the roof racks, the mist over the hills promises a cool ride. Much discussion takes place on what people should wear, and there are further delays as arm-warmers and long nicks are donned. Failing to bring anything other than the nicks and jersey I was wearing, I stood and waited and hoped that cold or hot, the weather wouldn't be too uncomfortable!

Finally we were ready, off down the rail-trail towards Warbutton, the surface not really suited to some of the road bikes. Over the years the track seems to be deteriorating, like a lot of bicycle facilities, it doesn't look as if there is any budget for maintenance, once the thing has been built, that's it! One particular timber bridge is in a sorry state, the approach from the eastern side being eroded away, and quite dangerous unless you zig-zag onto the opposite side of the track.

By the time we reached Warbutton we were all ready for a bite to eat; the sun had cleared away the mist, all the previously donned warm clothing needed to be shed, and people were starting to comment about the warmth of the day!

Back on the bikes, off through Warbutton, then turn off the main road and seventeen kilometres of climbing up through the Yarra Ranges park to the summit of mount Donna Buang. It's still a great ride, there's never much traffic, the scenery is fantastic, and at 1250m, it's quite a climb!

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The creek is back down, the heron was back on his rock this morning — I wonder where he went during the flood? The river is still turgid, brown and full of drifting objects. Driftwood everywhere, the stink of mud in the air.

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Last night's storm created floods in the suburbs just north of us. Over 100mm of rain fell in some places!

I don't think I've ever seen the flood marks from the creek up so high, this morning every flat bit of bike track was awash with debris or mud. All the councils have just finished beautifying the parklands with pine-chips and mulch, so as a result, there are now huge piles of pine-chips and mulch washed off every garden bed, deposited in “challenging” ways on the track.

Glennferrie road underpass just passable. Under Tooronga road was a slimy, slippery mud pit.

There were a few very large trees floating in the Yarra, and lots of rafts of plastic bottles and stuff migrating down to the sea.

Three of the seven lightning photos from last night sort-of worked.

Lots of fun'n'games with my photo annotation stuff. Trying to find sufficient information on RDF and N3 and then trying to find examples to show me what is needed. After creating some very broken files, I've found that the following is what is needed:

<> foaf:annotates <http://ajft.org/2003/12/01/204-0408_img.jpg>;
  foaf:maker [
    a foaf:Person
      foaf:mbox_sha1sum "87d5276974d12ea0f4064e7870cab2d47cb5e91d"
  ];

Must be a day for the birds — running a bit late this morning due to sleeping in, I made myself even later by stopping for a couple of minutes to take some photos of a Nankeen Night-heron in the creek. The pictures didn't come out very well, they were at the extreme end of the digital zoom, but it was unusual enough to see one out in daylight. Normally that rock is frequented by a White-faced heron. I really need an SLR and a good lense for wildlife pictures, but there's no way I'd carry it around with me!

Half an hour later, riding in the gates at Monash there was a White ibis flying past overhead. I guess that might mean something important if I was in ancient Egypt, as it was all it meant was two more birds to add to the list I've seen while commuting.

So much for going riding today! After not getting to sleep until after three a.m., the alarm woke me at six. Ankle was still sore from where I half-twisted it yesterday, completely stuffed from lack of sleep, all coupled with a serious case of really feeling down about it all. I lay back down for ten minutes, intending to call up and let Evan know I wouldn't be joining them — next thing I knew it was half an hour later and the phone was calling, wondering where I was.

Spent the morning sitting around listlessly, hoping that a thunderstorm would cool the place down, wishing I could fall back asleep.

By dinner time the weather had cooled off and I had woken up to normality, so off up the street for a bit of exercise, a change of scenery, and a bite to eat. People everywhere, many from the tennis, wandering up and down the street, peering at menus and discussing whether it was ok to eat “here or that other place.” I settled on Silvio's, but then had the challenge of choice. Normally the two of us don't even need to look a the menu, but being alone meant that I had to think and pick something else! Pizza Luciano, a good combination of flavours, a glass or two of wine, and an excellent coffee — all the while watching the comings and goings of the take-aways, the passer's by, and the traffic on the street.

The guy at the next table was having dinner with his young daughter, I've seen them around at Blue Heaven many times before. Amusing mix of half-kid, half-adult conversation, she was insisting that they sang a song together — very much the primary-school nonsense-song, but annoyingly catchy, slightly Gilbert and Sulivan-esque, and probably destined to be stuck in my head for the rest of the week!

  I went to a Japanese restaraunt,
  to buy a loaf of bread, bread, bread,
  My name is Elvis Presley,
  the girls were in the back seats,
  drinking lots of pepsi,
  Cheesecake!

Managed to nab a few more pubs this afternoon, for the photo collection alone, although with the hot weather it was very tempting to go and sample a beer in each one... The Vine, Mountain View, London and the Grand. There can't be that many left now... can there? Although I still wanted to walk on past the Grand, that new colour scheme just doesn't look good to me!

Off to a teamRC17 dinner this evening, foolishly without checking the details! I'd been walking around all day thinking “seven o'clock,” it was only when I went to leave home that I actually read my scrawled note and saw that I should have been there at six! Then I couldn't find the place, driving slowly down the Nepean highway trying to read street numbers while everyone else was trying to get where they're going as fast as possible — I'd just about given up when I spotted the enormous sign advertising the place! Not to worry, I found it, the others had only just ordered so I snuck in with time to spare. Good food, and huge servings, I think I managed to get through about two-thirds of a bowl of gnocci. A good thing I didn't order an entrée as well!

Normal day's ride to and from work today, then a magnificent evening ride later on. Lack of motorbike meant that when I got the invitation to have an evening beer and barbecue with friends, it was either norky bike or the train — and Friday evening trains aren't my favourite.

Another of Marko's fine barbecues, a good time to sit and chat as the day cools down and the cicadas sing. The selling of their house still hangs over them, the market isnt' good, and by definition, the real-estate agent is a real-estate agent. Will it sell or not? Will they move or not? Who can tell. In the meantime, we enjoy what we've got — coffee, food, companionship, and an old steam engine that Marko had found and restored!

Three days after the full moon, there are no street lights on the bike paths, there are no lane markings on the bike paths, its all just a case of trust your instincts and follow the black ribbon through the darkness — flashing bike lights are good enough to be seen by, but not good enough to see with! Along the way the other senses come into play, the temperature changes as you drop down to the cool of the creek, or climb up to the heat radiating off the concrete roads, the sounds of frogs and birds in the bushes, muted traffic and Friday night sirens, the smells from the creek, the mud, the drains... non-too pleasant, but all standing out that much more at night.

To the driver and passenger of the electrician's white van, QXC-557, just what is it that makes you want to yell abuse at people on bicycles as you pass on the road? Is it the feeling of power and invulnerability as you speed past, anonymous, except for the foot-high letters advertising your employer's company? Is it the knowledge that you can outrun the abused/intimidated cyclist, or is it some mistaken belief that if I can't retaliate at the time, that I won't be able to record your details, your company name, your phone number, your registration number, and retaliate later...

Australia, Portugal, Spain, England, New Zealand, France, Switzerland, Italy. What do they have in common? All countries that I can count as places that I've visited for long enough to spend a night in. All countries that I've cycled through on my bike! Add in Ireland, and that's my nine entries for Norman Walsh's counting countries competition.

[2008-01-23] Vietnam, China should be added since I originally wrote it, and Jersey was missed back in 2003.

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Late evening, a warm spring evening. The sun sinks into the clouds, wood smoke in the air, a few too many glasses of wine with dinner and the cicadas start to squeal into the night...

A minor crisis in the bicycle storage facility — the new toy arrives at its new home... Half of it is my birthday present from Jo, half her birthday present from me. A brand-new second-hand Trek T-50 tandem. Three or four weeks since we first saw it, about a fortnight since we decided to buy it, but only this weekend have we finally had time to get down to Peter's shop in Brighton and pick it up — after a little nagging, mostly because they want the shop space back!

Bicycle 106-4528 BI 0677 is the most recent addition to the stable — definitely the largest, heaviest and most ungainly to carry up and down the stairs, as well as being the one least likely to fit in the car for transport to or from any ride. I guess we'll just have to ride it everywhere...

A hot day today, 39°C, windy and dusty! Probably not the best day to try and sell your house, but when its booked in advance, that's what you've got to do. Off we went at noon to lend moral support as Marko and Lesley's house is being auctioned... Lots of people around, lots of people wander through looking at the place, are they potential buyers, are they sticky-beaks, or are they just neighbours and friends like us!

Half-past twelve and the auctioneer calls it to order, there's the pro-forma legal blurb, then the desultory start to the bidding. Nobody seems interested, the auctioneer opens with a “vendor bid,” a peculiar form of legalese that they can use to get things moving — apparently still legal so long as the bid is declared as being a vendor bid. Still not much interest, one couple bids, the auctioneer makes another vendor bid, the two of them go to and fro a few times and the property is handed in under the reserve price.

Well call me naîve, but over a drink afterwards the auctioneer reveals that the bidding couple were actually his “friends” — dummy bidders in other words. Unknown to us, undeclared to the public at the auction, and unknown to our friends whose house was being sold! This is quite clearly illegal here in Victoria, but is still widely accepted as happening everywhere. According to the auctioneer only the stupid or the unlucky are caught and prosecuted. The real-estate agents just manage to confirm my opinion of their place in life, somewhere down there below computer and used-car salesmen.

Someone has decided to start trying to log the mobile-phone users and send an email direct to the top — Andre — or Police Minister Andre Haermeyer, if you want to give him his official title.

Andre has a mobile phone driver reporting page. You can find it at http://www.ratbagitinerant.com/cm/phones.html

Reg says: Dob in a drongo driver!

Just the one? As the sign says "Wipe off five". This evening's mild entertainment came from:

1. 17:40 QRD-368, Blue magna, Clayton road/Ferntree gully road intersection.
2. Red Ford Falcon, Malvern road. No, that's not a phone, driver is slugging back a UDL as he skims past my elbow. Too quick, no plates.
3. 17:55 PJV-969, White ford telstar, Malvern road
4. Silver Toyota Seca, east on Malvern road. Young girl SMSing, sun in my eyes and no plates. What caught my eye was that she was driving the up the bike lane… just like the woman who killed a guy.
5. 18:09 RHG-878, purple peugeot 306 convertible, Malvern road/Wattletree road.

The last one took the cake. There he was, sitting stopped at the intersection, indicator on to turn left, phone against the ear, GREEN TURN ARROW in front of him, mindlessly chatting. I rode up alongside on the driver's side, leant over and said very clearly “YOU CAN PUT THE PHONE DOWN NOW, THAT'S A GREEN ARROW.” “Oh, err, yes,” came the reply as the driver in the car behind leant on the horn, off he went up Wattletree road.

Three definites in half an hour, I guess that at $135 per fine that'd be $800 an hour I could be making for Andre. I should be getting a commission! I really wouldn't mind riding around on my bike for an eight hour day and raking in whatever proportion of $6400 per day that would be!

Woohoo... barbecue; No photos, too busy cookin' and eatin'. Plans were made, deadlines were set, sausages were bought, fire was lit, meat was cooked. The wedding present barbecue was assembled, fired up, and did its job.

Eleventh day of the eleventh month and I didn't notice. So much for armistice day, or for Aussies, Gough day. There seems to be a growing disquiet that Melbourne's motorists — indeed Australia's motorists — just don't give a damn about the laws regarding driving and using a mobile phone, and that the police don't give a damn about policing these laws. $135 fine and three points off your license — who cares. Endangering other road users — who cares.

The woman who killed a cyclist near Geelong while she was sending an SMS has been let off by the courts — a suspended two year sentence. Even Bicycle Victoria, famous for not doing anything that would seem to remotely offend anyone in the government or VicRoads, is calling for tougher penalties and a public “dob-in an illegal motorist” hotline.

I don't think that tougher penalties are the answer — its a knee-jerk Aussie reaction — call for tougher penalties. What's the point when the existing laws aren't being enforced? You can increase the penalty up to ludicrous extremes of having the death penalty for speeding, but if it's not enforced, nobody will obey it.

Amazingly though, no life-threatening mobile-phone wielding motorists today — only the dogs on the bike path to contend with... and one particular rabid old lady who is too important to keep to the left, is too important to keep her four dogs on leads, under control, or even on one side of the path, and is sanctimonious enough to claim that a loud voice shouting BIKE! cannot be heard because I don't have a bell on my bike... Refused to answer any queries as too why she didn't use a lead or keep left, just walked off saying over and over again “tra-la-la I can't hear you...”. Absolutely infuriating, but I shouldn't let these idiots get to me! Hopefully sometime soon their idiot dogs will run in front of a truck rather than a bike.

They wonder why Melbourne's taxi drivers have such a poor reputation — ten to nine on a Tuesday morning, taxi stopped with its hazard lights on in the left-hand lane of a main road. The driver hopped out, walked around to the rear door and pissed on the road, then zipped up and drove off! Maybe its acceptable in whatever third-world country our taxi-drivers get their licenses, but surely he could have driven to the petrol station two blocks away!

Stupid me, stupid, stupid me! There I was, riding home, happily minding my own business. I glanced at the courier van parked at the side of the road... Stupid me; I thought that for once someone had decided to stop to chat on their mobile phone. Stupid, stupid me. Panic stop as the idiot does a u-turn from a standing start, straight across three lanes of traffic and missing me by a foot — all the while still talking into his phone...

Ten minutes later, same ride home, minding my own business in the bike lane. Woosh!, idiot in a tin box misses me by inches, meandering back and forth across the lane and bike lane. Surprise surprise, there's a phone held in his hand, clamped against his ear...

Yass to Melbourne, seven hours sitting in the car, seven hours of driving down the Hume highway, seven hours of eyes glued to the speedo lest we drift over the speed limit and be pounced on by the constabulary as a lethal threat to society...

Miraculously managed to sleep in until 9am — not easy in a house containing three young neices — breakfast with Colin and Liz and catch up with people and family events. Then off in the afternoon to Canberra Hospital to visit the object of the entire weekend — sister and youngest additions, Katelyn Jane and Heidi Ann, three days old, happy, well and asleep.

I even remembered to take my film camera with me — and to actually use it! One day soon I may even have finished the film that's lain dormant since I bought the digital camera — the camera certainly made some unhealthy noises as the motor opened and shut the lense cover, probably two years' worth of grit and dust in there.

Back to Bungendore afterwards, to look with envy at dad's garden and get itchy feet for a garden of our own — maybe not so big that we need to mow it, but just big enough to grow some tomatos with taste! Over the winter the massively overgrown greenhouse has been put into order, the cacti gardens are all flowering, and more and more birds are appearing in the garden...

Inspired by the CD of wedding photos that we recieved from Gabby, I've started working my way through Ritchie's rolls of film.... Time consuming... and disk consuming! Eventually I guess I'll finish...

Wyvern news: I found out that somehow I'd broken the CD reading, who knows how, it just wouldn't load the right modules. Anyway, time to upgrade the kernel from 2.4.20 to 2.4.22. Build, install, build, install, lilo, reboot... Yay, CD back again!

The nasty sneaky little magpie in the park near East Malvern station scared me half to death this morning — again. I must remember to look out for him tomorrow...

The airconditioner at work wasn't working all day — fairly typical — now that the weather has started to warm up. As a result, it was stuffy and hot and I was glad to escape to go for a ride in the evening, while it was still daylight! North road and Warrigal road through all the evening traffic, then around the bay along Beach road, chill breeze and evening sunlight, a great time to be out. I made it home a little after seven, slowly riding up Swan street and stopping to add to my collection of photos of Richmond's pubs — the Depot, the Corner, the Richmond Club, the Vaucluse, the Swan, the Central Club and the Rising Sun. Seven more down, how many more to go?

New baby number two has a name, but baby number one hasn't. I'm not sure I understand, but apparently it all makes perfect sense to my sister. So happy birthday for yesterday to Heidi and the other one!

Seems my sister Kathy couldn't wait until after we visit this weekend — I'm now an uncle again. I had a feeling she'd hatch before we could get there to see her. Five nieces, one three and a half year-old, two one year-olds and two born tonight! No names yet for the new ones.... Should make family gatherings crowded in the future.

MLP

[http://theory.lcs.mit.edu/~rivest/sexp.html]

SEXP —(S-expressions)

  Today: 91.5km
  Trip: 257.0km

Final day of the ride, best weather so far! Sticking my head out of the tent at around 6:30 there was not a breath of wind, the sun was rising and the bay was as flat as a mirror. We left Rye around 10am, in bright sunshine, but with a chill still in the air.

It always amazes me how much traffic there is on the stretch of road between Sorrento and Mornington, I guess to my subconscious the road doesn't seem to go anywhere, it just ends at the heads, so where do all the cars come from? Unfortunately it seems that each time I ride along here I could also ask “where do all the idiots come from?” as there always seem to be yobs in V8s and 4WDs determined to show their masculinity by pushing cyclists off the road. Today was no exception. A blue ute, JOOST-1, made the biggest impression, sliding past in a shower of gravel around a blind bend near Mornington, his driving skills astounding all...

The good weather and Cup day holiday had also brought out every boat owner in Melbourne! It certainly seemed that way, with every beach, boat ramp and bay packed with fishing boats, pleasure boats and sail boats of all descriptions. Later on as we passed over the Patterson river the launching yard looked like complete mayhem, I've never seen it so crowded.

A cold drink at the Mornington hotel, then ten kilometres of noisy, busy road to Frankston. The swooping descent down Oliver's hill makes it all worthwhile. Then warily through Frankston, watching for opening doors, abuse, and swerving rusty bombs... Out of Frankston and on up the Chelsea before turning off onto Station street, somehow we managed to catch every set of traffic lights just as they went red. The Bridge hotel at Mordialloc was starting to fill with punters and partiers as we passed to turn off into Beach road. From here it is straight up Beach road back to the city.

Where?

Rye,

  Today: 49.25km
  Trip: 165.0km

Where?

Torquay, Rye

  Today: 67.27km
  Trip: 120.0km

Where?

Lorne, Torquay

  Today: 51.02km
  Trip: 51.0km

Where?

Apollo Bay, Wye River, Lorne

Ouch! Canon's ZoomBrowser program crashed while starting this morning and deleted the entire database of photos on the laptop. Luckily it didn't touch the photos themselves, just the database of details. Thanks Mr Canon — good thing I don't use it to record titles, dates, etc...

Out for an afternoon walk in the cold and the wind, took photos of the Bridge and the Nash — two more to add to the pub picture collection. Then it was time to hurry home to make it to the Spiegeltent on time, or least in time for a beer, then to see the Gadflys. A far more lively show than Thursday night's — the band's party trick would have to have been the passing of a double-bass from one member to another ... between notes and mid-song! Four guests up and down to join them at various times, at one stage all seven musicians were crowded into the tiny space.

Up the road to the markets this morning — and first steps in taking the photos of all the pubs. Unfortunately, the best place to photograph most of them is half-way across the nearest main road, or risk having passing traffic blocking the view. The Royal Oak, DHR, the Spready, three down, twenty four to go... Down to the Burnley post office to pick up a parcel, oh no! What has happened to the Grand? A thick coat of drab olive paint on the outside, and a remodelled interior all decked out in mission brown. Too much of a shock, it was far too ugly to capture against the grey sky.

The weather forecast for tomorrow sounded worse than today, so off for some cycling this afternoon — and a visit to the Sydenham, the mystery twenty-seventh pub that neither of us could ever remember seeing. A couple of back streets and detours, captured the Royston and Earl of Lincoln along the way, then west along Elizabeth street and there it was, now renamed as the Richmond Tavern. Down along Punt Road in heavy Saturday afternoon traffic, I can never remember whether there are two pubs or only one along here... sure enough it's two: the Royal and the Cricketer's Arms.

Enough pubs for one day, we continued down to the river and along the bike track past the ca$ino and down to Port Melbourne. Out onto Station pier for the full effect of the cold wet wind off the bay, old men bundled up and fishing at the end, the Spirit of Tasmania looming alongside. Grey skies turned to drizzle, drizzle eventually turned to rain. Time to head home by the shortest route possible.

Melbourne between spring rain storms: Grey skies and a thick brown river.

I tried to find a little about the architecture of Richmond, and found a website all about walking in Melbourne. Then was reminded, sadly, that the St Kilda pier had burned down while we were away on holiday.

[http://www.walkingmelbourne.com/]

Walking Melbourne

Decided today to take a photo of each of Richmond's pubs. Earlier in the week I'd seen a collection of photographs of English pub signs somewhere on the web, and I remembered how Jo and I had challenged each other to name all the current Richmond pubs — 17 I think — or was it 27.... Vaguely starting from nearest home and spiralling outwards:

1. the Bridge Hotel

Closest to home, just up the end of the street.

2. the Royal Oak

Flashing lights and poker machines, home of the Richmond Tigers AFL.

3. the Spreadeagle

Good food, Guiness on tap, a large hot fire in the winter.

4. DHR — the Dover Hotel Richmond

A quiet and friendly kind of place.

5. the Royston

Always reminds me of Walter Burley Griffin or Frank Lloyd Wright's architecture. Circumstance keeps conspiring to prevent me ever getting inside for a beer.

6. the Grand

Second closest to home, recently changed hands and there seemed to be some funny business with the opening hours during the changeover.

7. the Rising Sun

Smoky

8. the Cherry Tree

Out of the way, rarely visited.

9. the Great Britain (the GB)

10. the Prince Alfred (PA's)

You used to be able to wheel a bike straight into the beer garden, then it was renovated and the garden closed over.

11. the Vine

Flashing lights and poker machines, studiously avoided.

12. the Swan

A quiet place for a drink during the day, bouncers on the door and yobs inside on Friday and Saturday nights. The old drive-through bottle shop is now a sunny room full of trestle tables.

13. the Vaucluse

More poker machines and old men watching the dogs and ponies on the TV screens.

14. Central Club Hotel

Used to have quite a live music scene, complete with legendary Christmas shows by Weddings, Parties, Anything. In the last few years it seems to only have heavy metal bands for music.

15. the Richmond Club

16. the Nash (National)

up on Victoria street, on the border with Abbotsford. Seems to be making a name for itself with local bands.

17. the London

a newly renovated beer garden and rebuilt bistro.

18. All Nations

Famous Melbourne-wide for their food, a cosy old place out of the way near the towering ugliness of the housing commission flats.

19. the Kingston

Another up-market eating place.

15. Prince of Wales

16. Earl of Lincoln

17. Mountain View

18. Cricketers Arms

Right on Punt road, packed after any match at the MCG.

19. the Corner Hotel

a corner-piece of the independent music scene.

20. the Depot

Friday night drinks, cover bands and queues to get in.

21. D.T.s — previously the Batchelor and Spinsters

Does it count still as a pub?

22. Spargo's

I guess it doesn't count either, but the bar and restaurant are what was the old Town Hall hotel.

23. the Sydenham — now the Richmond Tavern

I had to resort to reading through the Melways for this one, never knew it was there!

24. the Royal

Another one that I thought had closed. Established 1848, I hope it makes it to 2048!

A possible favourite would have to be the Loyal Studley, sadly it isn't a pub anymore, I've no idea when it closed, but the building is still there and the sign on the wall.

Off this evening to the Famous Spiegeltent for an early show, time to see the Blackeyed Susans. The venue was packed, the queues were long, the seats were hard but the show was good. Ran into Cos and David while we were hanging around waiting for the — very late — appearance of Jo's sister and friend — they turned up just as the show started. Bad mood gave way to good as the Susan's played their way through a range of songs, from very old to material off the latest album — Shangri-La — the one that's been sitting in the CD player since I unwrapped it for my birthday.

Springtime, wildly variable weather. I really should be used to it now after seven years of living in Melbourne!

DAML — Dam what?

[http://www.daml.org/2001/06/map/]

DAML Map

Nearly had an all-in brawl across the street this evening. I'd just got home and was wondering what all the screaming and shouting was — three blokes were shoving each other around, chests out, swearing shouting and waving their fists in the air — “You F'en started, it ya C***,” “Nah, you F'en started it, coming round here ya F'en C***...” Meanwhile, three or four women shrieked like harpies telling their menfolk to lay into each other and “F'en kill the C***.” All the while half a dozen young children alternating between screaming and being screamed at to go inside... Charming bunch.

...

OK, this takes the cake for the weirdest spam to arrive in my inbox for quite some time:

Dear Portal Administration!

I have recently come across your site and liked it very much.

I suppose that the visitors of our resources belong to the same social group and my site could be useful for your audience so I suggest to exchange our links. This will help both of us to increase Link-Popularity and accordingly get top positions in many searching system, Google for instance.

My site is dedicated to guns.

More fun and games with Norky bike today. Off I went to deliver the spare wheel to the bike shop so that Jo's dud wheel can be replaced with a spare — the infamous evil replacement wheel from hell (or Devizes in the UK). Casually mentioning that my gears aren't quite working properly, investigation reveals that old bottom bracket and the new cranks don't quite agree with each other, and a narrow bottom bracket is required... The shop is then turned upside down and many a box is emptied trying to find appropriate sized parts, and a quarter-hour quick visit turns into a leisurely hour and a half.

Then on the way home some idiot decides to run into me. I was stopped at the traffic lights, parked in the “forward bicycle box” when a car pulled up behind me, parking inside the bike box markings. Pale blue sports car, registration Vic. NOY-007. The left-turn arrow went green, and without indicating, the motorist started off, then turned sharp left, pushing me sideways off my bike and left me sitting on my arse on the ground! No idea what (if anything) was going on in his head — he stopped around the corner and sat there looking at me in the mirror, then drove off.

Babies, babies, babies... blah, blah, blah, blah, blah... One work colleague has just announced that he's pregnant. Four or five of them then sat around gossiping for the next two hours — blah blah blah, babies babies babies... SHUT UP!

Bravely they entered Ikea, a place where many have ventured, but few have kept their cool after being herded, sheep-like, round vast and twisty passages... We survived, and even found a suitable thing to put the TV on, no longer must it sit on the temporary table, as it as done for the last eleven months!

Many jokes have been made about flat-packed furniture and “easy-to-follow” instructions. Very boring, I found them easy to follow.

123 days uptime, reset back to zero. All courtesy of CitiPower I guess. Damn, after checking logs, maybe the machine didn't crash, maybe just the video and keyboard disappeared... Maybe its time to upgrade wyvern's kernel since I've no incentive now to keep it running!

Busy day. I must be getting over whatever it was. After a slow start in the morning I ended up spending most of the afternoon spring cleaning — we now have the cleanest springs in the street. Paid Mr Tax Man, paid a pile 'o bills, put away a month's worth of receipts and papers, threw out a bunch of old magazines, consigned another assortment to a well-ordered pile hidden under the spare bed. Even threw out some well-loved, but unworn-in-the-last-decade clothes.

Out walking this afternoon, another taxi (ST-1531) drove past with the driver merrily smoking in his cab, pausing to flick the lit cigarette out the window as he turned into the Rydges hotel to pick up passengers. I wonder how many of them don't smoke in their cabs? Maybe its time for another letter to the EPA and the Taxi directorate...

Another day at home, two hours sitting reading, one hour sleeping in bed, repeat...

[http://www.theregister.co.uk/content/4/32732.html]

Bill Joy leaves Sun.

[http://www.theregister.co.uk/content/4/32780.html]

Bill Joy, creator of vi.

I think this is the first time I've ever snarfed an entire Slashdot article, but I found so many of the subjects referenced interesting that it seemed the easiest way. I've just about given up reading anything below the article itself, 99.9% of Slashdot seems to be crap.

SmellsLikeTeenGarlic writes "Seth Nickell (of Storage and Gnome HIG fame) has started a new project which aims to replace the aging Init system on Linux. OSNews has more details on the project, directly from Seth. The new Python-based approach will make booting faster and it will talk to the D-BUS daemon, freedesktop.org's leading project. And speaking of freedesktop.org, it is important to mention the release of HAL 0.1, an implementation of a hardware abstraction layer for KDE, XFce and Gnome, based on a proposal by freedesktop.org's founder Havoc Pennington and being implemented by David Zeuthen. It is innovative projects like Storage, SystemServices and HAL that can bring the kind of integration to the underlying system that current X11 desktop environments lack."

Later in the afternoon I head up the street for some groceries, then stopped on the way home for a drink and a snack. Sitting watching the traffic go by, seeing everything that is ugly about Australia. The view is dominated by the width of the road — town planning twisted so cars are more important than people. Drivers cursing, swearing, hooting at each other, then in turn stopping where they shouldn't, turning where it's forbidden. One, two, three... half a dozen... ten... I quickly lose count of the number yacking away on their phones, minds in neutral, inches from the car in front. Amazing that they don't run into each other more often.

Disease 1, Adrian nil. Staying home today to wallow in self indulgent cold remedies — and old CDs that I haven't listened to for months. While I'm here I might as well try and clean up some of the last month's mess. All those newspaper cuttings and little jotted notes, for example.

I never did buy a replacement PDA. The Palm Tungsten looked attractive, but not enough research before we went overseas, so I had no idea what prices were good, bad or average. I came close in Singapore, but a small matter of the price for a Tungsten T, but with the spec. sheet for a Tungsten T2 made me a little wary. Now I read that the Tungsten T3 is due out this month. Oh well, next month's model is always better and cheaper... Oh, and I just saw that the T3 has a three hour battery life — not helpful!

Ugh! Inundated with web-browsers and assorted other software, I've been using Konquerer on my home PC for a while and today it decided to stop displaying double quotes, ellipses and em-dashes. A font thing. SSH-agent has decided not to run either, so I have to keep reentering my private key password.

Must be Spring! The university campus is full of nesting birds, including a rather aggressive Noisy Miner that swooped down and pecked me on the back of the head when I walked too close to its nest. A first for that species, I'll add it to the list of magpies, mudlarks, swans and hawks that have attacked me over the years!

A new week, a new disease... I must have been away from Melbourne for too long, coming back I've caught the latest local cold.

Always around when you least need them! This morning on the train a group of six ticket inspectors came through the carriage checking tickets and keeping the peace. After yesterday, is this a coincidence? Why can't the train operators just face up to reality and put back one or two guards/inspectors on every train.

Aw hell, go away travelling for four weeks and what happens. Johnny Cash and Slim Dusty both dead, what else happened while I wasn't looking?

Fun and games on the train this morning. A bunch of strung-out looking druggies were smashing the doors and each other, swearing and smoking, fighting either amongst themselves or with someone they didn't like. Just as I was getting off at Huntingdale, one of them decided to start hassling other passengers, asking for money and threatening to stab people. A long and fruitfull conversation with the police ensued, a call back later confirming that at least one of them is in custody for a later attempted robbery.

Big joke: Reading the newspaper this evening, there was a quarter page advertisment telling people to catch use public transport as a relaxing way to get to work.

Nearly back to normal, apart from waking up around 4 a.m. and gradually listening to the world come alive. Assorted chirpy birds, cars in the distance, the first train of the morning, the clip-clop of someone walking down the street, a ticking noise every five minutes from the lounge room... hang on, that's the thermostat! Seems that the house-sitter must have turned the heater on sometime, then forgotten to turn it off — its almost impossible to tell by looking at the switch whether the stupid thing is on or off.

Still at home with my foot up, recovering.

I guess this will confuse things, but this is the first entry since we got home yesterday, first entry since we went away in August. As the mood takes me and time is available, words and pictures will appear to fill the gap.

The pictures would have started to appear today, except that although the camera, laptop and external drive are all sitting here at home, the cables to connect each pair are sitting on my desk at work! Oh well, maybe tomorrow...

Reading

[http://www.infowarrior.org/]

Richard Forno's website. From an article “Hooked on high-tech” that appeared in the Age.

A four a.m. landing, hobble along to retrieve the bikes and the luggage. Time for quarantine and customs with the bikes, the boxes had to be opened to check for mud. AQIS staff polite and helpful as I've always found them, they even handed us tape to fix the boxes back up.

Outside to catch the shuttle bus into town, and the first major problem of the trip with carrying bikes on public transport. Typically, after four weeks of no hassles in three countries, there's a problem here in Australia. The bus driver took one look at the boxes and declared that they wouldn't fit and couldn't go in his bus, then made a big song-and-dance of moving people from the front seats to the rear and folding seats up to make room. The luggage rack was only a third full, and there were a whole 16 people on his forty seater bus!

The bus timetable, posters and information booth all made no mention of the cost of the tickets — surely something that most customers are interested in. At $13 one way, I'm not surprised that they're embarrassed to display it! A tram ticket to within one suburb of the airport costs around a quarter that, no wonder Sky-Bus and the taxis are resistant to the idea of a normal public transport link to the airport, that's quite a lucrative racket they're running.

Seven a.m. and we were home at last. A flurry of unpacking, then a day spent snoozing in bed, or endlessly filling and emptying the washing machine. Somewhere in there I managed to get to a doctor and was told that I'd sprained my ankle four days ago, to go home and rest it and to make an appointment with their physiotherapist — the receptionist interjected that this would “probably be sometime between two and three months from now”, as they were fully booked.

A blur of plane travel — a long, drawn out, uncomfortable blur. I took my shoe off and my sprained ankle sweeled up so much that by Singapore there was no hope of putting a shoe back on. No matter what I tried, I couldn't get it comfortable. Even under the seat in front, airline hostesses managed to kick it as they served meals. Pointing out my bandaged ankle only seemed to elicit a “sorry” in addition to the kicks, but didn't stop people tripping over it.

  Today: 0km
  Trip: ??km

Where?

Milan, Heathrow

  Today: 0km
  Trip: ??km

A bad night's sleep due to the noise, the sprained ankle, the heat, and the stuffy room. In the morning I somehow managed a one-legged shower in the miniscule shower cubicle without flooding the bathroom or falling over and further injuring myself.

Where?

Milan

  Today: 0km
  Trip: ??km

Where?

Peschiera, Verona, Milan

  Today: 0km
  Trip: ??km

Where?

Fusina, Mestre, Peschiera

  Today: 0km
  Trip: ??km

My early morning walk around the campground left me with free day passes for the vaporetto — a woman I met was leaving today and she had a pair of three-day passes, she thought it would be a shame to waste them and gave them to us.

We'ld started talking after the two of us almost walked into each other, both were too busy watching an enormous container ship glide past, almost near enough to touch.

Breakfast in the café, more 1980's music. Cyndi Lauper and the Village people, endlessly repeating. How the barman can stand it I don't know! We escaped back to the tent to plan the day's activities.

Caught the 10 o'clock ferry across to Venice again; then hours and hours of endless walking. Boats here are used for everything — deliveries, garbage collection, workman's cars, ambulances... We hopped in and out of shops, looking at glassware, looking at paper-ware, hopefully trying to find a wedding album! The glass is too breakable, the paper too bulky, neither really suited to carrying in a backpack — and both are quite pricey!

Another ferry across to Murano, home of the Venitian glass industry. We debated catched the ferry all the way around from the Arsenale on the south, but decided to avoid the hour-long trip, to walk across to the north and catch it from there. Dived back into laneways and alleyways as we zig-zagged through some very non-tourist parts of the island, ordinary grocery shops and cafés, no glass, no souvenirs, finding our way without too much problem across to where we wanted to be.

Onto the ferry and across to Murano, then an hour or more spent looking around the glass museum. An impressive collection of Venetian glass from the 15th century to today, together with archaelogical glass finds from back to 100BC. Some of the three or four hundred year old pieces were almost indistinguishable (to me) from pieces created in the last decade! Most of the museum is labelled in English as well as Italian, but the layout of rooms is slightly confusing, and with no map or floorplan we nearly missed visiting a few rooms.

Exausted on leaving the museum, it was definitely beer o'clock. The first café that we sat down at refused to serve just a drink — for some reason there can't be enough profit on €5 beers without food as well! The second attempt was more successful, two cold, refreshing beers for only about two-and-a-half times what they cost in Australia!

After the beer it was time to start heading home, lest we be forced to do the unthinkable and have to pay for a meal in Venice! Back to the ferry, then packed in like sardines for the Murano-Venice trip with all the homeward-bound commuters. A long and tortuous path through lanes and paths and streets and stairs to the Stazione to check train timetables for tomorrow, then back to Fusina wharf, just like yesterday, we were just in time for the 19:10 ferry.

Another sunset trip across the lagoon, magnificent colours as the sun sank through the pollution haze over the oil refinery. Three large cruise ships or Mediterranean ferries were all leaving at once, dwarfing us as they silently moved past in the channel, and the bay was so thick with tiny fishing boats that it looked as though you could use them as stepping stones to get from one side to the other. What were they fishing for? The water looks shallow enough for it to be shellfish off the bottom — with the islands only one or two metres above sea level, is the water here that much deeper?

Back to the campground for a beer before dinner, the barman's accent jolting with the friendly greeting of “Gidday, waddaya wantmate?”

Dinner of pizzas and another half litre carafe of wine, nothing exotic, everything tasty, everthing enjoyable. Then off to bed with the distant sounds of the refinery and ships passing in the lagoon.

Where?

Venice, Fusina

  Today: 0km
  Trip:

A last breakfast in the hotel and then a minor victory — they're happy to let us leave the bikes in the basement for a couple of days while we head off to visit Venice.

Off to the station, lugging the luggage, then try to find a working ticket machine — one that would accept notes! The problem with the machines seems to be that they were too successful, and they were all full and couldn't accept any more money! An armed guard and a bank employee were visiting them one by one, empting the cashbox and restarting the machines, and then instantly a queue would appear at each revitalised ticket machine. I was amused to see that inside the machines there appears to be a very ancient IBM PS/2 running OS/2, and not once did I see a crashed one, unlike the numerous Windows blue-screens, such as on the information kiosk that sat there for three days!

The 10:38 train to Venice Mestre, luckily we got on ahead of the crowd and managed to get seats in a compartment, every other seat ended up taken and there were people standing in the aisles for the two-hour trip.

Complications at Mestre, the only information counter is hotel information, and they wouldn't hand out a map without a booking for one of their listings. Eventually the girl relented and was waving a hand vaguely at where camping ground