- On a perfect day of mid-20s temperatures and unimpeded sunshine, I set off to explore Geelong 'Ali style': donning running shoes and roaming around with no planned route, taking photographs, listening to music, stopping at nice sitting spots, busting out impromptu ab workouts on suitable patches of grass, and generally sauntering about without a care in the world. What I found was another example of how spoilt Australia is with amiable places, especially desirable seaside locales. Geelong, like Cronulla where I spent a magnificent month, is not bigged up by any Aussies and barely features in guidebooks, yet its waterfront is marvellous. A sandy beach, calm bay waters, a path ideal for running, a Children's pool, a designated swimming area with diving boards, a marina crammed with boats, a sunny picnic area, and a Ferris wheel that I opted against riding as I would have been the only rider, which would have been a bit sad for all involved.
- I also found a series of these wooden people sculptures dotted along the waterfront, one of which is pictured below. I really liked these wooden chaps, as the faces of the characters were just so full of life.
- While strolling through Eastern Park, my Weezer playlist was interrupted by the voracious squawking of thousands of birds. Tilting my head skywards, I saw that the noise makers were not birds but bats, hanging from the tree branches with the density of starlings. Examining an unsurprisingly shit smattered information board, I discovered that these creatures were not bats but flying foxes, and this was a colony of them. Wow, there were a lot of these winged mammals. Some were swarming between trees, most were just hanging around, all of them seemed to be emitting raucous cries. I had to stop for a while to gaze upwards and take it all in. It was quite something.
- I was perusing the truly dire selection of books in the Red Cross store when I came across a light hearted cricket tome by old Aussie batsman Doug Walters, which I acquired for $1. Later on, sitting by the sea, I flicked it open and found that it was signed by none other than Doug Walters himself! "Best Wishes, Doug Walters, June 1989" the biro scribble read.
- While labouring on the farm, I promised myself that I would get fish and chips in Geelong. True to my word, I undertook an unwelcome 1.6 mile round trip to fetch the fish at the end of a long day of walking. The customer lacking chippie must have seen the hunger in my eyes and rewarded me with the biggest portion of chips I've ever seen. No scraps were left.
- I was hoping my stay in Geelong would feature some evening banter at the hostel, but soon after arriving at the Irish Murphy's Pub and Backpackers Hostel I realised that this wouldn't be happening - I was possibly the only guest. It was a stark contrast to the 300 person United Backpackers Hostel I stayed in the night before in Melbourne. Melbourne is crawling with backpackers, most of whom reside in these giant 10-person dorm megahostels with their 24 hour receptions and branded key cards. Meanwhile, Irish Murphy's is the only hostel in Geelong. Given the lack of company, I thought I may as well head downstairs from the hostel to the pub, where some live music was underway. I settled down with an excellent pint of I.G.P. Australian Cloudy Ale in the decently populated main room and found out that the event was a Geelong Folk Music Club open mic night. The performers, all individual guitar strumming singer-songwriters, ranged from just below average to just above average. There was nobody I fancied mingling with, but it at least provided a nice atmosphere to write this blog post. It was a day where I was thankful that I enjoy my own company so much. It was a strangely unique day with a sort of 'out of season' feel, but it was certainly an enjoyable and memorable day.
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| Geelong waterfront |
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