Monday, 24 July 2017

Not going to the dam or the Ngilgi cave (Al)

Had a rather odd morning run, to 10 Mile Brook Dam, that started off beautifully like this . . .

mr

. . . but rapidly transformed into a too-technical-for-me track (ie read lots of rocks, puddles, tree logs, and general other objects determined to get me in a heap on the ground, plus some stupidly big uppy-downy bits too) that didn't, after the published 5 k, get me to the dam.  Damn. So after a bit more careful scuttling through the dank and dripping trees I turned back.  Looked on the map of my run afterwards and was glad I did as it would have been another 5 k to the dam.

Met Bean by the river (gentle humming of the intro to the Groove Armada song that has, again, become a bit of a travel anthem) at the bottom of the Margaret River cabin park where we're staying, to find him watching a duck do some very strange things indeed.  Wondered for a moment if I had more seriously overdone it on the uppy-downy bits than I had thought, but he later showed me the video, so, no.

Well, after recovering from such antics we headed off to waves, caves and wineries - yay Stella Bella and their Suckfizzle, Skuttlebutt and Luminosa series and their whole heap of various blends of sav, sem and oak . . . ya boo sucks Vase Felix who wanted to charge for cellar door tasting, even though the place itself was really rather lovely:

mrr.jpg

Oh, and we also went to  some nougat . . . and chocolate . . . and fudge . . . and woodfired bread makers . . . gotta keep that diet balanced.

I wonder how long 2kg of Bettanay's nougat will last? And what choc chillie temptation nougat tastes like (and the other 9 flavours . . .  licorice twist, coconut rough, sweet rose petal . . . )  They do mail order too.  Oh dear.

Here's a representative two-shot of the various visits endured across the day . . .

[gallery ids="1717,1718" type="slideshow" orderby="rand"]

At Yallingup we got waylaid in the entrance of the cave ticketing office by a map of walks around the area and made an executive decision to forgo the damp cave for the equally damp Torpedo Rock Trail out to the coast, and then back (via the Yallingup Gugelhupf Bakery).  The very sweet, very rich cup of hot chocolate that had been imbibed at the Margaret River Chocolate Company may have had something to do with that decision to have a brisk walk in the fresh air.  We had intended to have a coffee, but it seemed sacrilegious somehow when there was 'proper' (ie hot milk and chocolate nodules) hot chocolate on offer.  Hadn't, of course, thought about why we'd wanted a coffee in the first place, and the somewhat opposite effect of a cosy milk and choccy hot drink.

So, the Yallingup waves and sea breezes sorted all that out, as did the rather intimidating sight of three middle aged fellows swimming 'laps' in the sea, out and back, and across the bay, for pretty much the whole time we we there.  Bloody hell some people are fit.

[gallery ids="1748,1750,1751" type="rectangular"]

Oh, and Bean found a bird whose name he didn't have to make up, though he probably will anyway . . .

mrrr