With my on-call roster finished, the holiday really has started. I meandered down along the Station Trail bike path to Clayton to see where it went, to see what it’s like. Amazing how different to my preconceptions of Clayton, once past the factories of Oakleigh and Huntingdale, the path travels along a quiet park beside the line, only re-entering noise and bustle as it gets to Clayton road. A quick poke around the shops then it was up to the Uni to drop off the phone — Clayton road is abysmal to cycle up, masses of traffic, and a huge number of drivers don’t seem to be all that well acquainted with the Victorian road rules — sharing the road with them seems to indicate that it is too easy to get a license if you already hold an overseas one!
From Clayton back to Chadstone — a visit I’ve been dreading, I hate the place — changing a duplicate Christmas present book. Acres and acres of car-parks, mums and cars and stress and screaming children. Me seemingly the only male over the age of five in the entire shopping centre!
Leaving, back on the bike, a whim takes me, I swerve to the right and head west to Prahran. I spend the rest of the sunny afternoon with a pint or two reading The Island of the Day Before, sitting in the beer garden at Bridie O’Reilly’s and watching the world go by. I’m definitely on holiday now.
