
Yes, yes, I know I'm writing this in a kitchen in East Lothian, and my blogging tardiness has reached epic proportions, but just suspend your disbelief for a while and pretend we're still in Geelong!!

So, in April my mum (finally) came to visit.
I think she was hoping that if she waited long enough, maybe we would have left and she could do a nice Australian tour without the added complication of family visits in the middle, but we're not so easy to get rid of!! (Just kidding ma!)
Anyway, I was very proud of her as, prior to meeting up with us in Torquay, she had ventured solo from the UK to Singapore, spent a few days there, flew to Perth, spent a few days there, flew to Adelaide and then driven all the way along the Great Ocean Road. Way to go Gran Anne!! And after seeing us, she moved on to Melbourne and Sydney, and then back to the UK with a LOT of luggage.

So, in spite of my advice that Winter was upon us, and the weather could be pretty chilly, the first couple of days were scorching - this is us at lunch and then messing about in the huge playpark in Torquay.

We went off the next day to get the ferry from Queenscliff to Sorrento - which as you will note from the website, crosses Port Philip Bay 24 times a day, on the hour,every hour... Remember that bit - it's important.

Ella is holding a sick bag in the picture due to her intermittent tendency to pebble-dash the inside of cars with her stomach contents. She has also been known to turn it into a multi-sensory production by following such and event with a chirpy chorus of 'What's that coming over the hill - is it vomit? Is it vomit?'
We had a lovely walk around Sorrento (lovely town, lovely shops, lovely lunch) and then headed off around to Frankston (which is on the opposite side of Port Phillip Bay to Geelong - see map) to go and see the Sand Sculpting Dinosaurs exhibition.

I have never seen anything like it - the scale, complexity and the attention to detail. The weather wasn't so great - wet and windy - and I think at one point we were the only people in there - but the kids had a riot doing sand pictures, ably assisted by Gran Anne.
Once we had drunk our foam-free cappucinos (the foam blew away - seriously) and picked all the bits of coloured sand out of various orifices, we headed back to the car to drive around and get the ferry. In no particular rush, I might add, since Nick had done the checking, and assured us the ferry ran 24 hours a day. Now, the more observant (female) among you may have noticed that the website does in fact say 24 crossings, not 24 hours, but we'll get to that bit in a minute...




So we left Frankston about 5.15, thinking we might get the 6pm ferry, but more than likely the 7pm - probably with a healthy dinner courtesy of the Golden Arches in between. And although I drove the Kia of Khaos like a demon, even managing a little wheel-screech on the roundabouts, we pulled into the ferry terminal just as the ferry was pulling out. Steve McQueen would have gone for it, but sanity prevailed and, after all, there'd be another one along in a hour. Chugging optimistically into the dark, deserted, unlit, empty, desolate, abandoned ferry terminal. Umm, Nick - could you go and check that timetable over there?

And that's when The Scottish Factor reared its ugly head again - mysteriously absent for months, and now resurrected by the arrival of my mother. There was, in fact, no 7 o'clock ferry. The next one was 6am the following morning. AND to add insult to injury, until two days previously, there had been a 7 o'clock ferry, but we were now on the Winter time table as the clocks had just gone back...

So, after a few moments of banging head on steering wheel, we turned around, headed BACK along the road to Frankston for only the third time that day, and then drove the loooooooooong way home around the bay. Ho-hum.

Under direction of mother, went off to Anglesea Golf Course to do some kangaroo spotting (don't be fooled by suggestions that Australia is overrun with kangaroos living in the wild and bouncing freely, Skippy-like through the bush - they do in fact all live an easy life on green, lush, watered golf courses where they get food, free veterinary attention and all the rounds of golf they can manage). If your eyesight's good, you might actually be able to spot one in this picture!!
In a fit of lunacy, decided to spend the next day in Melbourne showing Gran Anne the sights - or, in our case, the inside of a lot of shops! Mother managed to buy stuff in Laura Ashley (that well known Australian shop) whilst Lovely Hubby took all four children to the museum. Anyway, the rest of the day was uneventful, until we got on the 7 o'clock train home... and the Scottish Factor kicked in again. 6.55pm, cue conductor's announcement - 'Ladies and Gentlemen, we are sorry to advise that, due to a fatality on the line at Laverton, this train has now been cancelled and we will be arranging buses to take you to your destination' Aaaaarrrrrrgh!!! Won't bore you with the details of the painful trip home, but suffice to say we got home at 10.30 and told my mum we were never having another family trip involving her ever.

And finally, this is what she was responsible for when I went to the gym one night... Note the boys are wearing my shoes, as well as all their sister's jewellery. This woman is not to be trusted in charge of children...