ajft

?huh?

Off to the wilds of Northcote, up over the river, into the wilderness to the norht of the Eastern freeway. Searching... searching... for 250 High Street and the Wild Yak café.

A banquet for 10, good food, good company, good conversation.

The Age newspaper has excelled themselves. In an article about Apple opening an iTunes store in Australia, they've gone and stated that:

iTunes is the only site where iPod users can legally download songs.

I guess they haven't noticed the thousands of songs that are legally available at thousands of legitimate websites because the legal copyright holders has put them there. Just because I can't pay Apple for music, doesn't mean that it's illegal to pick up Teenage Fanclub's eight songs, for example!

...But still they won't touch the thorny issue that in Australia I can't copy music that I bought on CD, LP or Cassette Tape music onto my iPod for my listening. OK, so that is illegal, but that isn't the topic that they're addressing!

Not sure what I think of tags. I think they're a poor mans meta-data, for those people to lazy to properly annotate things, or those developers too lazy to develop decent interfaces to allow proper annotation. I've already had a run-in with the multiple possibilities of Victoria, for example. Today I tagged a fotothing foto that had contained a lion, then looked for other lions. I got told that similar tags included dandelion, sealion, and pavilion. Ok, I'll accept the first two, but the third made me nearly splutter my coffee out my nose.

How many interesting numbers are there out there that people know and remember? Doing my lunch-time CD importing, and listening to a bit of music, there in the background of Killing Joke's Mathematics of Chaos is a female voice repeating over and over, “875 020 079”.... What does it mean? As always, google is your friend. A nerdly star-trek reference. Oh well.

And a strange coincidence. Ministry's Psalm 69 was the last CD I read in to be imported into my iPod. Then I plugged in the iPod and found there were 69 songs to be imported.

Why can I remember numbers and not names?

This morning Jo and I took mum and dad on an orientation tour of Oakleigh, around through the shops again and over to Brickmakers park. All the water features have been dry and rusted for months now, I bet they will need replacing when they're turned back on — if indeed they'll ever be turned back on. The Indian Mynahs and Noisy Miners seemed even noiser than normal around one tree, we finally realised it was because they were harassing a Tawny Frogmouth (Podargus strigoides) that was trying to be invisible against the tree trunk. Strangely, it was on either Saturday or Sunday that we'd all been saying how rarely we'd seen the frogmouths.

Lunch at Bada, a mix of nachos and tapas, slightly delayed as the waiter lost our order, but more then made up for by the quantity of food and the quality of it all!

After lunch I proposed going down to Half Moon bay. Not too hard to get too, reasonably interesting, not too strenuous! I said Half Moon bay but it isn't where I had meant to go. I think I'd meant Holloway Bend, which is another small, sheltered bay just off Beach road. The bays and inlets around Port Phillip Bay all seem so different when we're driving along Beach road compared with cycling along there! Even so, it was sheltered, warm in the sun, and interesting to walk along the art trail — even if vandals have stolen three or so of the signs!

An enterprising sculptor had built a whimsical mermaid in the sand, the rising tide was removing her left arm as we approached. A few hardy kids splashed around in the bay, their parents sitting in warm clothes on the sand! More dogs on the beach — dogs can't read the “no dogs” signs — sometimes I think that councils put up the signs to appease one set of people, then refuse to enforce them to appease the dog owners.

After breakfast it was decided to go for a walk down to the beach, around past the Erskine river and maybe along to the Lorne pier. All quite simple, until you try to take two young nephews and all the required support infrastructure along! I think it was at least an hour from decision to leave until we actually walked out the door.

Back at the house, examine the maps to see what would be the easiest way to get from Lorne to the Otway Fly — once again we seem to have left it too late, so it seems Jo and I are doomed to never visit! We decided to drive further along the coast, then turn at Apollo Bay and go home along the inland route. Jo drove, avoiding the more maniacal motorcyclists who cut corners and used both sides of the road — fine racetrack form, but not ideally suited to a two-way public road! The first one or two lookouts had so many cars stopped that we wouldn't fit, when we got to Cape Patton the lookout was empty so we pulled in to take in the view.

Four motorcyclists on three bikes soon joined us, delighting in the good weather and the twisty road. After climbing over the safety wall to peer down the crumbling cliff face and each bragging on how he'd been taking it easy to let the others keep up, they hopped back on and continued on towards Lorne. To the last of the four I would have recommended gloves, but I guess its his fingers on the road, so its his problem. On to Apollo Bay and we arrived as the music festival was in its final hours, people and cars everywhere, but many in the midst of packing up and leaving. We skirted the tents and walked out along the beach, dodging dogs and rubbish to watch the fishermen on the breakwater around the boat harbour. Good luck had me glance into the water just as a huge stingray drifted past through the shallows. It must be over a metre across, and according to one of the fishermen, it just cruises up and down sucking in all the bait and bits of fish that fall in. Anyone hooking it would be in quite a task to lift it out of the water!

There was also a squid boat tied up at the docks, showing up close all the lamps and wiring that they carry — I've seen them out to sea at night, lighting up the ocean, but have never seen one up close. A frightening tangle of wiring on a wet, salty, metal boat!

The afternoon wore on, it started to cool down so we started to head back. The carnival tents were still finishing up, I picked up an Ash Grunwald CD that was lying on the ground. A quick icecream as the shops were clearing up and then back in the car for the twisty drive up through the forest then over the flat plains back to Geelong.

Geelong to Melbourne, boredom on the expressway as three lanes of cars sit nose to tail at 100km/hr, the odd idiot tailgating even closer, then weaving and dodging through the traffic. Victoria's motorists just don't seem competent.

Pizza at Silvio's; a magnificent way to end the weekend! Hot, tasty, and very, very fast. Sometimes I can't work out how they can serve us so quickly. Sunday evenings are always a blur of activity in the shop, the tables full, people calling in for takeaway, and the oven radiating across the room.

The intention was to leave in the morning and drive west to visit the Otway Fly treetop walk, then head back along the coast to stay the night at Lorne. A long breakfast, too much sitting around chatting, and a stroll around the local shops meant that we didn't leave Oakleigh until noon! A quick change of plans and we headed straight to Geelong and spent the afternoon wandering around the waterfront in strangely summer-esque weather. I guess Jo and I will have to visit the Otway Fly some other time!

On the waterfront the hire businesses were all in full swing; we could have hired a tinny (an aluminium dinghy), gone for a ride in a jetboat, a cruise boat, or even a helicopter! One enterprising operator has brought his helicopter down from Darwin and was taking joy flights around from the wharfs for $33 a head. We resisted them all and settled for a long, leisurely, if somewhat late, lunch overlooking the bay. From Geelong we headed off to visit Bells Beach, a place I've somehow managed to go past a hundred times, but never actually visit. The beach is just far enough off the Great Ocean Road to make it too much of a detour when I've been riding past, and when we're driving we've either been wanting to get to Lorne, or to get home. For all its reputation, the beach looks remarkably unspoilt. Many cars in the carpark at the top of the cliffs, and many surfers out sitting on their boards, but due to the length of the walk down the stairs, there were no other people on the beach itself.

Evening was closing in as we left Bells and headed west, smoke from fires and the dusk making it harder to see the view. We arrived at Lorne in time to reintroduce the two sets of parent's in law to each other, then all sit down to eat and drink our way through the evening.

A fascinating invitation arrived in my inbox today from a restaurant. I think I put my email address down once long ago when we went there for a nice dinner, as a result, I periodically get offers for events that are completely out of my budget. The food and service were fantastic, but they need to work a little more on their email:

Wok Tossed Queensland Bug Meat¹, Green Papaya, Macadamias, Spanish Onion, Chilli Salad, Passionfruit Mirin Dressing

OR

Lightly Battered Yarra Valley Zucchini Flowers, Leaves², Asian Pesto Dressing OR Crispy Fried Milawa Chicken & Country Tender Eye Fillet Salad, Mint, Peanuts, Shallots, Creamy Coconut Dressing

---

1. Mmm, Queensland Bug Meat, is there a word missing here, or am I alone in somehow finding this one unappetising?

2. Leaves. Leaves of what? Anything in particular, or is it just leaves from the garden, from the tree, from the pot-plant in the corner?

OK, I'm guilty. I took a camera into the local shopping centre! A bizarre rule I know, but nearly every single shopping mall in the country seems to have sprouted signs in the last few years banning cameras. (I'm not sure what you are meant to do if you buy one inside). In some fit of wisdom, the management of the Oakleigh Centro have decided that keeping the doors open at night is a security hazard, and since everyone knows that the entire population of Australia drives everywhere in their cars, they lock all the doors except the one into the carpark. Of course you can't legally get into the carpark unless you drive, so all the people on foot who come from the bus and train station find themselves walking down the edge of the road, then through the carpark and finally up the stairs to get in!

All this brought on by seeing another reference to the maybecamera and http://wearcam.org/.

Adelaide this time, another dead cyclist, another drunk motorist gets off with a slap on the wrist. Five glasses of wine, then run into someone in your four-wheel drive and kill them — NO PROBLEM — the court will acquit you. What the hell does it take to convict people in this country? Oddly enough, the police found that they had time and resources to take a blood alcohol reading from the victim, but had insufficient resources to take a reading from the lawyer who had hit him!

McGee was convicted of driving without due care but can be fined no more than $1250 — about a day's pay for him based on the average $250 an hour rate for Supreme Court barristers.

Well done Eugene McGee, drinking, getting in your 4WD, running over people — you're damn near getting away with murder.

Annual grape harvest.

?huh?

Two years, so quick! I organised a surprise for the evening, timing, funding and lack of planning quickly reduced it to one of the simplest I could come up with — out to dinner somewhere reasonably nice, but a little quirky. The Colonial Tramcar Restaurant fulfills both criteria, rattling around Melbourne in a dignified manner, the inside reminding me of the ornate 19th century railway carriages of royalty!

Silver service, or as close as you can get while inside a w-class tram, paté, a choice of two entrées, main courses a cheese plate and desserts, and a never-ending stream of wine with the food and a liqueur with coffee and dessert. Watching the chef operate inside a cupboard-sized kitchen was quite an eye-opener! Strangely enough, the four people celebrating at the table beside us were from the north-east of the UK, very near to where I was born — I think it was Barnard Castle, in County Durham.

In a humorous salute to our previous home, we stayed the night at the Rydges Riverside hotel, converted from the old tramways depot at the end of Bridge road in Richmond, it's been a hotel for the last 14 years, and we walked past it any number of times while living nearby. The view outside was good, but the rooms look a little seedy and rundown, and definitely in need of some revitalisation!

?huh?

More links and accounts. Added myself into Audioscrobbler so that my potentially dubious taste in music can be revealed to the world [RSS], and to Feedburner to amalgamate my Flickr and Fotothing pictures, and my del.icio.us bookmarks [RSS].

The new Canon IXUS 700 looks very attractive. Can I justify it? Do I need to justify it? Has my IXUS 300 really reached the end of its useful life?

Jo is in the middle of reading a biography of Natalie Wood, so last night we watched Rebel without a Cause, a movie I'd never seen before. Talk about being type-cast though, one of the police characters made both Jo and I almost collapse in giggles each time he appeared on screen. Edward Platt, imortalised as The Chief in TV's Get Smart.

Eek! I can't control myself. Into the bookshop and out I come with

Quicksilver, byNeal Stephenson ASIN: 0099410680 Buy at Amazon

($27.95). Was going to add it to my list in http://allconsuming.net/, but it looks like they're having problems.

[http://www.43things.com/]

yet another lists 'n communities kind of thing.

?huh?

Blah blah blah ... “experienced an issue” blah blah; “printing is experiencing intermittent issues” blah blah “an intermittent printing issue has been identified.”

WHAT THE HECK? If it's a PROBLEM, say that its a bloody PROBLEM! Maybe they're too frightened to say the word PROBLEM in case they just might be expected to fix the bloody problem! Somebody please belt these people over the head with a thesaurus.

Oops. End of rant.