Let’s cast our collective minds back a few months when the weather was decidedly warmer and butterflies still flapped about like idiots. When the sun wasn’t just for show and actually had some warmth in it. You remember....back when it was a burny bastard and its purpose was to cook us the minute we nipped out for milk? Well, before the temperature plummeted to somewhere between Artic and Baltic, Flashie and I went off to Lake Tyrrell in Northern Victoria for a bit of a look, and we ended up at Lake Mungo.
Yes alright, I’ll tell you how that happened...
The other week I took myself out of the People’s Republic of Moreland and ventured to The Coast. Being the pale skinned, sun allergic tragic that I am, this isn’t something that happens often. Or at all. But I was bored of watching hipsters drink coffee and eat watermelon, and some members of my family had stupidly put themselves within driving distance, so I set off to annoy them for a couple of days.
Kennett River is about two and a half hours drive from my place. Unless someone decides they want to pull up a sizeable chunk of the Great Ocean Road in the guise of ‘roadworks’, in which case it takes about a week. Fortunately, I had brought pumpkin seeds and crisps, so I wouldn’t starve. It turned out that I wasn’t the only one who likes crisps.
Remember last month when I went to Goulburn Weir and took half a day to get there? Well, this week I had another crack at it by researching the directions thoroughly, making a special note to turn onto the M39 instead of staying on the M31, and ensuring I didn’t go via Yea. Look, I know what you’re thinking: “but if you’d stayed on the M31, you would’ve headed towards Sydney and Yea is south of Seymour even, so how in god’s name did you end up in Yea if you were headed north?!?!”
I had the opportunity to go to Lake Fyans near the Grampians for a long weekend and it wasn't very busy which was pretty awesome. Each dawn jaunt was calm and quiet, except for the squawking of birds, the quacking of ducks, the buzzing of mosquitoes...
Yet again, the start of the year has yielded some disgustingly hot days forcing one to stay indoors as much as possible because that’s where air conditioning lives. Sometimes dawn is an okay time to be outside, before the big burny bastard in the sky has had time to fully crank up.
As is my wont, I decided right after dinner to drive out to Batesford near Geelong, to photograph the sunset from Dog Rocks. Theoretically, the journey should take just over an hour. But you know how it is: traffic…roadworks…me faffing about…
85kms and one wrong turn later, I found what I was looking for: an outcropping of rocks apparently named after a bunch of wild dogs, a tree, and the sun getting ready for its final drop. With 20 minutes to spare, I parked the car, braved the paddock which may or may not have been full of snakes, found a spot, set up my gear and waited. Half an hour later, I braved the (now darkening) paddock again and headed back to the car, all the while wondering what nasties were pricking at my feet.
And for the next week, I picked barley grass seed out of my runners.
My sister's dogs are neurotic. They bark at dust. Imagine how quiet I’d have to be to leave her house at 4am to shoot a sunrise without waking the entire household. I was resigned to an epic fail.
St Philip and St James Anglican Church sits on a hill in the township of Old Noarlunga, about 30kms south of Adelaide, and supposedly takes its name from two men who were instrumental in building it in 1850.
Once upon a time in a land far, far away there lived a little hill that was known as The Sugarloaf. Why? Did it look like sugar? A loaf? A loaf of sugar? What is a loaf of sugar anyway?
This is The Sugarloaf:
Lake Tyrrell in northern Victoria is one of those places that you have to make a plan to see. Whilst it’s off a main highway and easy enough to get to, the closest decent sized town is Swan Hill, a mere 75kms away.
I recently spent some time working in Sydney with Nic Granleese at offices like these:
Tragic, isn't it?
Somewhat appropriately, this old camera was in the lobby of our digs. We're not talking "this is as big as your head" type of camera. We're talking "this is as big as you" type of camera.
Before settling in for a quiet night (because of an early flight the next day...hateful!) we watched the sun begin its descent into the Arabian Sea from our cabin at Bogmalo Beach Resort.
The blue sky began to turn orange and small groups of people gathered on the beach. One by one, the boats on the water began making their way back to shore.
Before long, it was all over. The sun dropped, the light faded and our visit to India had come to and end.
Thanks India. That was mighty good fun. Even with the boy's day of spewing!
Some low light stuff to kick off the uni year. Webb Bridge at Docklands is a beautiful piece of work. I’ve seen some fantastic shots of it from all different angles. It’s a popular place so it vibrates when enough people are running on it.
Went on a girlie road trip with my bestie, Balders, who is truly fabulous and not just because she once got rid of a huntsman spider in my house while I hid in the local supermarket. She's also good at killing moths. My contribution to the friendship is that I will kick a wasp in the face if absolutely necessary.
We filled the car with petrol, snacks and good tunes and headed up to Eden on the Sapphire Coast (NSW) via Lakes Entrance, Lake Tyers Beach (just for a look), Nowa Nowa, Orbost, Cann River and Genoa.
Just after Easter, me and the better half went to Kangaroo Island in South Australia for a few days. We were rather chuffed to have some fabulous weather and it was relatively quietish tourist-wise. No queues, no taffic jams, no problems finding a park anywhere.
Also no finding a sandwich anywhere outside of normal lunch hours.