The source

From the hotel resort, the source of Harrison Hot Springs was only a couple of hundred metres away. When I’d walked to the spot twenty years ago, it had appeared as nothing more than a rocky smoky pool of bubbling water not much bigger than a king size bed; at least that’s how I remembered it. Continue reading The source

Disappearing farms

Because of Cleveland’s rich red soil, it was once the bread basket of Brisbane. When we past through on our way to Cleveland Spit, there were farms on both sides of the road. Neatly ploughed rows of luscious volcanic soil were home to a variety of vegetables. Continue reading Disappearing farms

To market to market

Queen Victoria Markets on the north side of Melbourne city, extended a couple of blocks. When I stepped through the main entrance, the smell of meats had me steering away to the specialized sections of cheeses and even a store that sold crocodile and kangaroo meats. Continue reading To market to market

Along Harrison Lake

It was a miserable one degree when I arrived at Harrison Hot Springs. Before the sun set, I walked along the frigid shoreline of Harrison Lake. I couldn’t see the lake’s end because it was a long narrow body of water with the Lillouette River flowing into it from the opposite end. Continue reading Along Harrison Lake

Almost surrounded by sea

It’s not only Brisbane’s over thirty degree summers that has everyone reach for a cool drink, but the soaring humidity. That was why Cleveland was another coastal location my parents flocked to during summer. Continue reading Almost surrounded by sea

Through university grounds

Melbourne University is ranked as Australia’s best. It lies north on the outskirts of the city centre with buildings a mixture of modern and old. Nearly 50 000 students attend the university many coming from over 130 different countries. Continue reading Through university grounds

Held up on a highway

Once I passed the blueberry farms on the way to Harrison Hot Springs, I drove back on to the road, but a train I thought would never end blocked the highway. I joined a long line of waiting cars before I noticed the slough that I’d peeked at from the opposite side to the blueberry farms. Continue reading Held up on a highway

On travel, writing and just messing about

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