Hands Full of Glitter and Tofu : 2011 Day 297 (Monday 24 October) - Roadtrip 2 - Off to Merimbula via Pebbly Beach, Mogo and Narooma

8.35 a.m. A lovely, if unspectacular continental breakfast (cereal, toast, fruit, mini-muffins) in the guest houses’s restaurant, Elizans, surrounded by the colourful, abstract artwork of local artist Meaghan Jacobs. I so want to buy some but alas my budget doesn’t stretch to it! One day when money is no object, I will Meaghan Jacobs myself into an artistic frenzy. Now, the guest house may be a tad twee decor-wise but both the husband and wife owners/hosts were friendly, warm, and very helpful. It turned out to be a nice personable place to stay although as my gorgeous guy stated ‘Who thought that apricot accents were a good idea?’ They did, and really in the grand scheme of things, a minor thing when so many other parts of the stay were so enjoyable...

9.50 a.m. We hit the road Jack and didn’t go back, speeding down the Princes Highway - yes it goes quite some way down the coast as I have belatedly discovered. There is something infinitely fun and relaxing about hitting the road, having a rough idea of where you’re heading, and just stopping somewhere or turning off to it because it looks like a great way to spend some time. So much nicer than day to day work day life when everything is pigeon-holed into a a chunk of linear time with no room for creativity or whim, trapped in linear bite sized bits where everything is pre-thought out, and worked out so far ahead of time you can’t remember making the arrangements. This is nothing like that and I am LOVING the freedom! I am also loving having my guy besides me, and exploring and experiencing, and loving, and being spontaneous with him. Such a wonderful gift.

10.35 a.m. Pebbly Beach was a turn off we saw as raced along to Bateman’s Bay, and and we u-turned and headed down one of those tight narrow country roads into Murramarang National Park and the supposedly kangaroo-saturated grassy verges on the edge of what turned out to be a gorgeous cream-coloured sandy beach with nary a pebble to be seen. Or kangaroos for that matter, who probably saw tourists coming and decided to play a practical joke by hiding in the bush fringing the grass verges. But what was there was a slow moving laconic goanna (seems that Apple doesn’t believe that goannas exist - seems that if the animal in question is non-American, it refuses to believe they exist), green, bush-covered headlands, sparkling blue ocean and tall grey-barked gums on the road leading to and from the less-than-Pebbly Beach.

11.19 a.m. Quick stop into the petrol station at Bateman’s Bay - petrol yes, Sydney Morning Herald no (we got that later in Mogo), and I had another attempt at cleaning the car windows in a non-streaky fashion. Triumph as clear windows replaced the streaks of yesterday’s effort. Alas, I kind of forgot to re-do the windscreen, much to my gorgeous guy’s amusement.

12.22 p.m. We reached the single street old gold town Mogo, which had been recommended to me by a number of friends at my old job. (Still taking time to get used to that!) The first stores we went to had a creepy Deliverance-type vibe to them, including a knick-knack place that said it was a ‘delightful store to browse through’ but which resembled the sort of place that witches waited within as they watched you walk closer and closer to the room in which they would murder you and cook you for dinner. OK so possibly I am exaggerating a wee bit there, but even my gorgeous guy thought it was  odd too so we didn’t enter and went on to the leather store nearby. Now it was full of cuddly Ugg boots, even fur-lined thongs (flip flops for the Yanks) and yet the owner was really weird. I was happy to leave there and just when we were thinking Mogo was some sort of semi-urban Addams Family-esque town, the stores became more welcoming, the owners delightful and the ranges in the cases of the scrapbooking/crafts store and the kitchen ware store awesome. We ended up having a wonderful time in the town by the end of our stay and staying much longer than planned... but no, I am not attempted to go into the delightful store when we drive back home that way...

1.28 p.m. Narooma for lunch (after driving through Moruya)! It’s a town of 8500 people right on the coast and while it isn’t full of cutesey arts and crafts stores, it does have an oyster industry (which appalls me as I hate them) and better for me, an island and a coffee brand named after my guy, Montague. While the fish n chips were nice, they weren’t outstanding, although eating them in a park at Wagonga Inlet (where we had to fend off some very pushy seagulls, including an AlphaGull who’s sole reason for being seemed to be to intimidate all the other gulls, which we favoured with as many chips as we could to piss AlphaGull off), and afterwards walking along the pebble-strewn beach (still no kangaroos alas), with oyster shells, and rock pools full of seaweed and jelly-like anemones, fringed by mangroves made for a delightful early afternoon. As did citrus tart for afternoon tea  (3.07 p.m.)which was sweet without being too tart. Of course, I ate enough calories to sink a large ocean-going ship crammed full of cheesecake but it is a holiday and it demands a large degree of scorn for calories! I stare scornfully in your general direction kilojoules! I care for your guilt not.... oh and the Montague coffee was fab so we bought lots... well my gorgeous guy did. Bearing my gorgeous guy’s name or not, I still loathe its bitter evilness, although the smell is adorable and I could have locked myself in the car afterwards and not emerged for days...

4.48 p.m. After detouring through Central Tilba, and Tilba Tilba (and seeing cows! Lots of cows)- we will return on the return journey to augment the economy of one of the far-ish south coast’s more cuter hamlets - we hit Bega about 4.48 p.m., got a call from the resort in Merimbula saying they closed the office at 5 p.m. and when did we think we’d get there? Not by 5 p.m. we wouldn’t!

5.14 p.m. Made to Merimbula, successfully opened the security box outside a now closed reception, got inside the garage and into the apartment JUST before the heavens opened with appropriate gay abandon! The apartment is lovely, bright and moden, but is a tad minimalist, and is a little like squatting in a display village home. Having said that, its funky and hip and being in Merimbula allows us to do lots of fun day trips to Tathra, Eden etc which I cannot wait to do....

6.57 p.m. Checking out Eatability and the lukewarm reviews for most places in Merimbula, I didn’t hold out much hope of a fine dining experience. But we lucked out, went to Cantina in Market Street for tapas, and the food, wine and service was awesome. In fact some of the best, most original tapas I have had. It was a pleasure eating here, and I award this the most distinctive dining of the week award. A real pleasure....