On my bike

 

Off to Adelaide tomorrow for a spot of cat-sitting at Encounter Bay😼

And then there is Adelaide

Back in West Beach it was time to think about New Years Eve.  After very little thought I decided this was the year of the Salty Dog so set off to Mum's old house in Klemzig to get some grapefruits.

My Adorable Niece lives there now

and as it happened was looking after her sister's greyhound, the Adorable Daphne.  This augured well.

Finding a bottle of vodka was more problematic.  I returned to the city and, with my favourite bahn mi shop at the railway station closed, remembered another good one in a Rundle Street food court.

To my delight there are small tables from which you can spy on the activity below.

I was particularly charmed by the attention these dogs attracted.  So many people stopped to chat and pat.

Having paid an exorbitant amount for a bottle of vodka (who knew?) I raced back chez Pearl to wash the city away.

Pearl's neighbour came around with this book to tell us a funny story.  Her son had been nonchalantly fishing in the Top End when he landed a barramundi with a $1000 prize attached to it.  Of course news got around and another relative saw this book by another Alan Carter in a newsagency - topic and name matched so she bought it for Alan Carter's chuffed Mum who thought she may read it one day.  I volunteered to read it immediately.  It's set in Tasmania and about the scourge of fish farms.  Right up my alley.  And a gripping read too.

Then came the day for Helly, Tamasin and my ritual catch up at the Adelaide Central Market.

Despite the economic woes we hear of, there seems to be a lot of construction going on.

Just looking up at this metal stair case makes me faint.

I bought more of my favourite things,

sadly not including these lovely flowers,

and took them home for tea.

Helly gave me a lovely book about Paris eats for Christmas and these chocolate umbrellas.  We used to have these on the Christmas tree in England.  You soon learn not to do that in Australia.

Pearl was very cagey about us going into town for something special.  We were to meet her Sister3 in Rundle Mall.  My mind raced to geocache because these siblings are nuts about it.  Now I don't mind an occasional geocache but I'm not yet hooked.  We caught the tram in and, having plenty of time to spare before the rendezvous, decided to stay on to the end of the line which happened to be the Festival Theatre.

The place was buzzing with young girls and mothers / grandparents.  There was sparkle, coronets, tulle and pretty dresses everywhere.

It was soon clear why.  Oh it was lovely to see the excitement of these little girls.  Admittedly the 'merch' was also doing well.  But imagine the joy of being young and going to the ballet.  What a splendid idea.  We mingled for a while just to absorb that youthful vitality.

We wound our way through corridors and passages and finally emerged at the railway station - to my surprise.  This is one of the things I love about cities, the whole maze of interconnection that you need to be a local to know.

We met Sisters3&4 and were coyly led to the building on the corner of King William Street and North Terrace.  This is where my Mum used to go to the unfortunately named optometrists Fieldhouse and Roden, which naturally became Fieldmouse and Rodent in our household.  Through a secret door, wood paneling, a lift, change to another lift and emerge on the top floor to the very hip 2KWBar . Ooh la la we were in paradise.  A rooftop restaurant, and you know I have a thing for rooftops.  The staff were young and cool as were we, saved from the heat by sporadic wafting water clouds.  The music was recognisable and the menu exciting.  We had a verdant balcony booth.  And yet I took no  photos

beguiled as I was by the views of my favourite parts of Adelaide.

King William Street as I'd never seen it before.

Soon it was time for the flight home and fond farewells.

But I was cheered by this amenity at the airport.  I'd never before given any thought to the heroic efforts of companion dogs.

Birthday at Encounter Bay

The Floosie is one of those people who has a birthday between Christmas and New Year.  While it makes presents tricky, it keeps the celebrations on a roll. And so it was I caught a bus and train towards Encounter Bay.  Alighting at Seaford Meadows station I was greeted by a cool blue mist

in her red hot new car.  She whisked me to a supermarket where I, poor provincial, was stunned to see Hot Cross Buns.  Talking of which

we followed this car for a while.  A man and his dog  fishing.  Dreamy.

I think it was this guy.

This is my photo of the Floosie on her birthday.  She has sent me some much better photos but I can't download them for some reason.  A gang of five of us went to the new Thai restaurant in Victor Harbor and it was perfect.  The Floosie, as you can see, being a modern girl spent a lot of time receiving congratulatory messages while I gobbled down delicious fare, including soft shell crab.  Heaven.

Appetites awoken

we decided to put one of Jill's Christmas presents to the test.

Because we had bought a cheap bottle of Morello cherries at Aldi, and because Pearl has never eaten Yorkshire Pudding, I declared we should cook  Kentish Cherry Batter Pudding.  The Floose did the work and I read out instructions.

We had some anxious moments but it turned out looking a little bit like this.  It surprised the Floosie's expectations and I thought it was delicious.  I took some back for Pearl with a heap of other goodies that the Floose had whipped up.

One balmy evening we strolled to the waterfront and along to the Beach House Cafe.  This is a gorgeous old style pizza house and bar.  A true 1970s vibe that suits us perfectly.  The pizzas were good as was the house wine.  I resisted the cocktails.  I know I'll be back there in March for some cat minding and an indulgence or two...

As an aside, one of the funniest things that happened chez Robertson was that the sliding door between the two living areas came off its hinges.  We all tried to fix it but to no avail.  This did not affect me greatly but I was constantly amused by Jill and Steve talking to each other through the slim gap - shades of Pyramus and Thisbe.

Moving right along

Mildura bound.  It was an eight hundred kilometre  drive, but we made it.  So much easier when you can share the driving

and Sashi Babe is there to wait on you hand and foot.

lovely to see some of Steve's Wentworth work

lovely to be reminded of Wentworth tricks for reversing into the garage

and very lovely to eat at the former Artback, now Lock 10 and Weir, restaurant.

our former home, Riverbank, from Wharf Street

a little further along Wharf Street

and the nearly completed shed conversion that we had always hoped would happen

Of course, too much nostalgia is never enough so we trolled Sashi's former paradise on the Yelta billabong.  The garden was too overgrown to see the house 

but the pelicans obliged us.  Then back to Sashi's cool Mildura home

to be put to work.  Aperol Spritzers are our thing

              

but we'd forgotten how to make them.  We struggled womanfully

and the results were well worthwhile.  After toasting the Italianate garden, we retired to make pizza.

Up early the next morning because we were on the road again, just a 400km snip home to Adelaide and a bit of Christmas providoring.

Believe it or not, Pearl was up the next day and on the road to Port Pirie to spend Christmas with two of her children and families.

I had decided to spend Christmas Day on my own, indulging

in a little snooze

but woke myself up with a most appealing idea:

a White Christmas.

Then there was a bath

and a feast of my favourite things,

all in a very festive atmosphere

with more favourite things.

And then came Boxing Day - always a biggy at Harbour Town, a mere stroll from Pearl Resort.  I moseyed along to catch the vibe.  So many people.  So hot.  Here are people queuing to get into the Nike sale.  Note the spray mist to keep them upright.  Most stores had security guards to control numbers.  I went home happily with a tube of toothpaste.