Lottie and Conny used to work together. Not only that, but they did this on a boat, where they had to share a cabin. As such they became good pals. It was to go see Lottie and her husband Ryan that we were headed to Geelong/Queenscliff. Normally, we would have stayed at their house. However it was completely gutted and amidst a full renovation. Instead we had to settle for a room at Ryan’s Dad’s house. When I say settle, I mean bask in the glorious luxury.

Barry and Tessa, Ryan’s father and his wife have a beautiful house. Up on windy hill the view is stunning, basically my perfect house, this place has epic high floor to ceiling glass and looks out to the sea, over the fields and is a mix of simple elegance with a touch of luxury, the views even extend to when having a shower. There are hobby cows milling around, a collection of hounds and even a workshop and art studio or two. To cap it off, a pool! Most importantly however, we were welcomed as long friends despite having never met, for which I can only ever remain eternally grateful. I got my “I’m a vegetarian who doesn’t drink” statement out early, I usually expect a little judgement, but there was none! Barry had to fly out on our second day there but the evening before was spent learning the finer points of Aussie Rules and discussions as to how it is a much better sport than ‘soccer’. I’m not entirely (read: at all) in accord with this sentiment, but I certainly did enjoy the chat and the game. Having never met Ryan previously it was pretty nice to get to know him too. A solid chap we had a great chat one evening putting the world to rights with discussions of everything from politics, even at the local level (Ryan’s Dad was formerly Mayor of Geelong) to the much broader ever present spectre of the volatile situation of world politics as it stands today. We talked on cars, electric and otherwise, sports, economics and lord knows what, I must say Lottie has done well, I thoroughly enjoyed our natter, however little it achieved in fixing the world. Geelong is a very nice town. They have excellent fish and chips* served from a boat house above the sea, the calibre of the fish and chips was greatly up for debate, as was my ability to judge them, due to my lack of fish consumption. However as a voracious consumer of the chips and their accoutrements I fell I am of prime position, whereas Ryan disagrees, he also disagrees that a proper British chippy is the worlds greatest, but then again, he is just plain wrong. That said, the chippies are great at this end of the world and I love that they serve potato fritters/scallops/flips/cakes depending on what you want to call them. We ate at a swanky restaurant in town that was delicious, Conny and I took the bikes out for a day and best of all Ryan took us out sailing. A Perfect size beautiful boat, big enough for one skilled sailor to handle, and also not too difficult to give us delinquents a chance to feel all Captain Jack Sparrow. I want a sail boat. To your average sailor, I’m sure what we did was very simple and mundane, in essence, we just steered a wheel. However I was feeling ebullient and was convinced my new title should be David Alexander South, Master of the Southern Seas. Plus I am entirely convinced I am a natural sailor and would require only 20 minutes more instruction before being able to circumnavigate the world entire.**

One more thing about our hosts, Tessa***, a beautiful Yorkshire lass, long emigrated to Australia, is an artist. Hence the studio. Her art adorns the walls of the most beautiful house I know, and not only does it not look out of place, it serves to beautify it further. She truly is a talent of many media and styles. Every piece she does is stunning and inspires that kind of “I’d like to think I could do something that wonderful, but realistically I have no chance” awe. I most definitely would love to have some of her work adorn the walls in my home…that is…if I weren’t homeless.

Further to the wonder of them letting us stay in their beautiful home on the hill, Barry and Tessa let us stay in their holiday home by Anglesea, a bit further down the coast.

Here we got to hang out with Lottie and a bit more and went to the seaside. At one point I saw a bright white deer. I told the girls this, who were in the front seats, but they were in disbelief, their response came thus: “Are you sure it wasn’t just an albino kangaroo?”. I shit you not. One of the girls said that. Luckily, I can’t remember which one came up with that gem, but they can both share the blame/credit as they were equal in their disbelief. To the point where I bade them reverse as it didn’t seem too spooked. They did. Their response was thus: “Oh look, a white deer”

We decided that at Anglesea we would cook. Ryan told me the one thing he just didn’t get was tofu. So I whipped up some fine Tofu in a barbecue chinese gravy and I think I may have shown him the light. I wouldn’t want him to say that tofu is the greatest thing ever. Just to know that when handled correctly, it can be delicious. Ryan however out did himself with dessert. He had spoke of a sponge cake in brief, said that he would pick one up, and pick one up he did. He told us it would be light and tasty. He told us it would be delicious. More to the point, we believed him. Still, we weren’t prepared for this. The single most airy and lightest sponge ever created, combined with a good slab of whipped cream(not usually my thing, but it works) and topped with the most delicious passion fruit butter-cream imaginable. Oh My Fucking Jesus Hairy Balls. We had intended to eat a small sliver each. We ate the whole thing with Ryan and I smashing down the last two chunks in fatness and delight. To day, it might be the single most talked about thing from Conny’s perspective of the whole trip. It is definitely the new benchmark for cakes, which Conny now sees as a challenge to find another that comes close, and/or recreate such a beauty when we get home. It is, in her eyes the pinnacle of all things baked.

The next morning, Conny and I took a stormy bus ride down the coast road for a picnic on the beach. To be fair, we couldn’t concentrate on the view due to the pure fact that the spirit of Colin McRae had taken possession of our driver. I’m entirely sure that he bottomed out at least twice, once while going around a 90 degree bend at the bottom of a hill on the edge of a cliff. I would like to think there may have been a few power slides in there too. We took Klaus, Lottie and Ryan’s excellently monikered dog to the beach and had a super relaxed time. We boarded the train at Geelong and headed back to Melbourne, home of a cohort of mine from the very old days, practically the middle ages when I was a running shoe salesman, James Sherratt. Back in the days we used to work together at the recently deceased Bourne Sports in sunny Stoke On Trent. He and I were always of a like mind about many things and spent many a night at the Underground, the Sugarmill in Hanley or Gatsby’s in Newcastle. He’s always been a nice lad. He’s a bit younger than me. Much more polite and a genuinely decent fellow. It’s been over a decade since last we met so it was very nice for me to see him doing well. Now he is a teacher of history at a posh Melbourne private school, and he let us stay at his place. As happens in the good friendships, there was very little of that tiresome catch up chat and straight into the silly shit.

Melbourne, is a great city. Easy to get around. Friendly people. We had a nose around the hipstery places and junk stores of Fitzroy, we had a mosey around the CBD and even took a day trip to one of the suburbs which had its own little retro-community vibe going on and the fabulous Sun cinema. First we partook in the most incredible vegan ice cream I have ever tried(not that that’s many), from Goje. I actually had no idea it was vegan until halfway through, up until that point I just thought it was fucking delicious. We then went to the cinema to see Beauty and the Beast. I love Emma Watson. Straight up, Conny knows, and understands. She is a perfect beautiful person. Much like Yarraville itself, the Sun cinema is an eclectic retro kind of place, the chairs are lush and the toilets stinky but all in all its a wonder. Melbourne is for the most part clean, but quirky, with some fantastic food, from the Yum Dumplings in little China to the Veggie Bar (an absolutely outstanding place for my particular breed of fatty, and those of a more omnivorous persuasion enjoy it equally) in Fitzroy the food was nothing short of wonderful. One night we met up with an old friend from Nice, Julian, who used to live with Conny, and we hit up a little food truck market just out in one of the suburbs. Another day we met up with a different friend from Nice that we used to work with, Sally, who about to bring her offspring into the world and we haven’t seen since the heady days of summer 2008 (I think, it’s hard to keep track). We met at the NVG, an entirely free gallery of art and antiquities where I was surprised to find an awful lot of stuff from my home town of Stoke On Trent. Odd that I should be in Melbourne half a world away a decade after leaving Stoke looking at its (admittedly quite exquisite) pottery. I could have told them a thing or two about it myself, they did miss some knowledge gems. We also had tea there with another of our acquaintances Michelle, who we looked after in Switzerland alongside her husband David who broke his back in several places while on a cycling trip there. Amazingly he was back on his bike within a matter of weeks, and walking was just a matter of days. She brought with her her daughter Caitlin, it was a busy time! It was nice to see Sally so happy. She has a husband in the army and quite enjoys the army wife life, is about to welcome her child into the world and looks all set for the adventure. You may or may not have guessed this, but a big part of this trip for us is seeing some of those familiar faces we came to know and love whilst living our lives of old. All in all, I have to say I am happy to say that most of these fond folk are doing well and enjoying their lives, which is what matters. The beauty of living the lives we have is that it has allowed us meet people from all over the world and forge bonds with them across international boundaries. Although we may not speak often and see one another even less, the fondness for these folk does not diminish and it is super heartening to see them in fine fettle. It turns out that I might be the one that didn’t quite grow up yet.

From Melbourne we headed to the airport bound to Perth where we would continue our catch up trip with the fine and dandy Mr Steven Smith.

*Excellent but nowhere near the quality of the Dancing Octopus in Newcastle Under Lyme

**I’m lying.

***Search Tessa Dodds Art on google if you are interested.