Jindabyne - Quiet Days

Jindabyne grows more quiet, which suits me fine. The streets are quieter, there are fewer boats on the lake, and the swimmers have all but disappeared. Even our raucous galahs have vanished from the tree out front. The weather is still beautiful but I guess summer days are dwindling and people are going back to their normal lives. Our group of workers has spent their last week here at the inn, at least for a while, and we don’t expect to see them again. We have just one couple as guests tonight. We’ll have nearly a full house next weekend thanks to a music festival in nearby Thredbo, but until then it should be quiet here. As I say, that suits me fine.

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Jindabyne - Another Spider Encounter

Merrilyn and David have returned to their beach house so we are back to fulfilling our duties as innkeepers. Tuesday after locking up the building for the night I went into the tiny office to turn on the answering machine and have a look at the phone which had been acting up. I reached down to test the outlet where the phone’s transformer was plugged in when suddenly something moved. I jerked my hand back just as an enormous, hairy, ugly spider climbed onto the top of the transformer. He was about the size of a chocolate chip cookie. I felt eight beady eyes staring back at me.

Immediately I begin to scan my brain for the characteristics of the most poisonous spiders in this beast-ridden country. It wasn’t a Redback. Could it be a Funnel-Web? Damn, I couldn’t remember what they look like. Obviously I had to play it safe and kill the thing, especially considering my regrettable history with spider bites. I thought about sucking it up with the vacuum cleaner from a safe distance, but then who knows if it wouldn’t survive in the vacuum bag for days or weeks, only to find a way to crawl back out or pounce on whoever was unlucky enough to empty the bag. Besides, if I left the room to get the vacuum you just know that by the time I made it back to the office the spider would have moved to some dark corner, not to be found again that night. He’d stay lurking in the shadows, and each time we needed to use the office we would have to creep in scanning the room with paranoid glances, unsure of which piece of paper or pencil box he was hiding behind. No, I had to kill it now.

A sturdy mailing tube presented itself as a likely weapon: strong, not too bulky, and long enough to keep my bare hand at a safe distance. Unfortunately, the spider’s location wasn’t well exposed, with part of his body protected by the bulk of the transformer and some other wires hanging in the way of a clear shot. Nevertheless, after taking careful aim, I took a good whack at him. Predictably, all I managed to do was knock the transformer out of the outlet, which fell and knocked over a couple of plastic containers full of keys and loose envelopes, all of which fell into a messy pile on the floor. And I didn’t know where the spider was. I thought he fell, but I didn’t know if he was alive or dead or if he was somewhere in the pile on the floor, or hiding in some newly found crevice, or if he had crawled under the door out into the lobby. I scanned the ground but was disappointed to not see any spider corpses. So he was alive (and probably pissed off).

I poked at the pile of debris I had knocked onto the floor, and picked up the pieces one by one, carefully examining each for attached arachnids before grasping it with my fingers. Then I took another look around the tiny office, standing there in my bare feet, cursing how cluttered and dimly lit it was. This place was a spider’s dream: there must have been a thousand hiding spots. I needed a flashlight. I cautiously opened the door into the lobby, also dimly lit, and walked out one step at a time, thoroughly scanning the ground before each footfall. No sign of him.

I ran upstairs to get the flashlight in our flat. I breathlessly explained the encounter to Deborah, who was amused to see me so animated. We descended to the lobby with flashlight in hand to search for the escaped spider. At last we pulled a potted plant aside to find him lurking in a corner. He was a sitting duck. Deborah promptly bludgeoned him to death with the handle of a broom.

A little internet research identified our hairy little nemesis as a Badge Huntsman Spider – not one of the really poisonous ones. Mostly harmless, really, despite it’s nefarious appearance. They can bite, and it will hurt, but it’s certainly not going to kill you. But now we can’t get the theme from Spider Man out of our heads or, alternatively, Homer Simpson’s version of “Spider Pig.” Of course, when Deborah tells this story she is the heroic spider killer and I am the squealing little girl but, for the record, I fervently contest that characterization.
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Badge Huntsman Spider

(Not the actual spider, who is now thoroughly squished)

Jindabyne - In Search of Wombats

Merrilyn drove us out on the road to the swanky Thredbo resort around dusk in search of animals that tend to come out that time of day. We didn’t see nearly as many as she expected but we did spot a little family of emus, which is a rare sight according to Merrilyn, and a smattering of kangaroos and wallabies. Merrilyn insisted I scare the emus away from the road for their own safety, ignoring the fact that I was endangering MY safety by threatening a sharp-beaked mother with children in tow. Fortunately no pecking ensued.

We crept along the road for a long time scanning the adjacent grassy fields for signs of wombats but none were to be found. Merrilyn was just as surprised not to see wombats as she was to instead see emus. But Deborah and I didn’t feel at all cheated; it was an enjoyable excursion.

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Why did the Emu cross the road?

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Either a kangaroo or a very large rabbit.

This one knows how to pose.

Deborah after tackling a couple of wild dingoes.

Jindabyne - Flowing Festival

Last weekend was the occasion of the oddly named Flowing Festival here in Jindabyne. We walked down on Sunday along with Merrilyn to check it out. This decidedly small town festival is centered around the dragon boat races in which teams of 20 paddle forty-foot long boats which, presumably for aesthetic rather than hydrodynamic reasons, have been fashioned with dragon heads and tails. There were also a few amusement rides, a mini Renewable Energy and Climate Change Expo, a craft/farmers/flea market and the usual assortment of food vendors. Deborah purchased a jar of oversized olives stuffed with anchovies. She claims they are delicious but I can’t imagine how.

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The Flowing Festival

Dragon Boat Races

The next participants wait in line.

Jindabyne - Dinner with the South Africans

Merrilyn decided to give to her sister Bev as a birthday present a 90 minute facial/massage as administered yesterday by the talented Ms. Deborah. Proving there is no limit to her generosity, Deborah then gave Bev a cut and color. Bev was most pleased with the results and thankful at the disappearance of her persistent headache.

Later that day Merrilyn prepared a fabulous meal which we shared with her and David, as well as Bev and her husband Ken (with the dogs looking on hungrily). The conversation ranged across many topics including Americans’ infamously weak grasp of world geography. On a recent trip to the US Merrilyn and David were engaged in conversation with a young American who, when told they were originally from South Africa, said “I thought you had a southern accent!” Another time they were asked where in Africa was South Africa (in the North maybe?). When they neglected to mention their South African roots and merely said they were from Australia, they were complimented on their “Australian” accents. Merrilyn and David, despite having been in Australia for twenty odd years, don’t sound Australian at all.

Here now, in case the need arises, are some different ways to describe the act of vomiting:

American: Pray to the Porcelain Goddess
South African: Talk on the Big White Telephone
Australian: Technicolor Yawn

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Bev and Ken

Merrilyn and David

Jindabyne - Blue Lake

I tagged along with David on his way to work to take another hike in the Charlotte Pass area, this time without Deborah. I won't say how much faster I travelled without her since she was thoughtfull enough to pack me a fine lunch for the trail . The weather was good and the flies merciful, making for a very nice hike to Blue Lake. Once there I had the place to myself. There's nothing quite like being alone in the wilderness. Photos follow:

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Jindabyne - Dog Sitting

David and Merrilyn were gone all day yesterday due to a doctor appointment in Canberra. They left us in charge of "the children." Billy and Timmy are Maltese; Andy is a Yorky. Timmy is quite old. He has goopy eyes, no hair on his tail (it looks like a rat's tail), and smells a bit. His hind legs don't work particularly well so he pretty much stays wherever you plop him. I took the other two for a walk where Billy proved an uncanny ability to pee on every tree, stump and lampost on our route. Andy ignored the vast acres of grass around us and pooped directly in the middle of the concrete sidewalk.

The boys: Billy, Andy and Timmy (left to right)

Looks guilty - not sure why...

Timmy and his favorite stuffed animal, with his favorite blanket, sitting in his favorite chair.

Jindabyne - Dalgety

Merrilyn and David are back at the inn for a few days. I’m sure they were reluctant to leave their beach house but David has a doctor’s appointment in Canberra and also has some work to do at Charlotte’s Pass. It was good to see them again (as well as the dogs). Last night they took us out for a nice dinner here in town.

Today Merrilyn played tour guide and took us for a drive out to Dalgety, a small – make that VERY small – town on the banks of the Snowy River. Its claim to fame is that is was once in the running to be the site of the national capital until it lost out to Canberra, largely due to the fact that, according to Sydney residents, it was too close to Melbourne. We poked our heads into a couple of shops including an antiques place which was in an old garage/machine shop complete with old tools, old cars and old fashioned gas pumps. The Snowy River itself has its charms although it has been so heavily dammed and diverted that last year it carried only 4% of its original flow. Those living downstream have lobbied for the flow to be increased to 15% this year, but it is said that is unlikely to be met.

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Bridge across the Snowy River leading to Dalgety

Apparently they still work

An antique Holden Ute

Inside the antique shop

more inside the antique shop

Merrilyn and Deborah

The Snow River...or at least what's left of it.

Jindabyne - Metric System

As Fareed Zakaria pointed out in his excellent book “The Post-American World,” only three countries in the world don't use the metric system - Liberia, Myanmar, and the United States. Australia, of course, is on board with the rest of the world and we have to adjust accordingly while we are living here. So weather reports force us to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit, maps force us to convert kilometers to miles, scales force us to convert kilograms to pounds, Deborah’s diet tracking force us to convert kilojoules to calories. We are getting lots of practice with our math. This would probably be a good mental agility regimen for Alzheimer’s patients.

Yesterday, Valentine’s Day, we took a long walk around the lake to the boulder strewn cove I like so much. Deborah made a nice picnic that we enjoyed on the beach. We had glorious weather, much nicer than we were expecting, and I got a little too much sun. It was probably the first time this whole trip that I neglected to lather up with sunscreen and I paid the price. I’m not quite lobster boy but I do look as if I’ve been standing too close to the microwave.

Jindabyne - Aussie Slang (People)

Here is another installment of your Aussie slang dictionary, this time under the subject of People:

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Aussie (Australian)
bloke (man, guy)
polly (politician)
greenie (environmentalist)
postie (postman, mailman)
surfie (person who surfs)
yobbo (a rude, ill-mannered person)
pom (an Englishman, short for pomegranate, either rhyming slang for immigrant or alluding to the sunburned complexion)
oldies (parents)

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at the lakeshore

Gallahs hanging out in front of the inn

Blake and Deborah in cold weather gear
(it actually feels rather weird not wearing shorts and sandals)

Jindabyne - Cool Days

It’s hard to believe we had 38C (100F) temperatures just a few days ago when we are now reaching only about 16C (59F). Nevertheless we saw a couple of men swimming in the lake today. All you could see above the surface of the water were each man's head and one hand holding a bottle of beer (only in Australia!). I guess that’s how they were staying warm.

At least the cooler weather is aiding those fighting the bushfires in Victoria. I have to say the Australians are showing a tremendous amount of support and solidarity with the bushfire victims. Everywhere you turn there is another fundraiser and they've raised tens of millions of dollars plus copious donations of food, clothes, etc.

A couple of days ago I took advantage of the cooler temperatures to take an extended walk along the lake shoreline to a peaceful, picturesque cove with a bolder strewn beach. Here are a few photos:

Jindabyne - Fire and Flood

The neighboring state of Victoria, the border of which is just across the mountains from us, is currently suffering from dozens of bushfires. (Australians use the term “bush” to refer to undeveloped land and rural, country areas). The fires started during Saturday’s record temperatures. Over 130 people have died so far and over 750 homes have been lost. The death toll is expected to rise as the search for the missing continues. They say this is Australia’s worst natural disaster in history.

This story is dominating the news and there are some horrific stories coming out about whole towns being virtually wiped out, 40 storey high flames racing like a train across the countryside, residents huddling in swimming pools as the flames approached their homes, burnt-out cars strewn across the roads, having been engulfed in flames as people tried unsuccessfully to outrun the flames, some only to die in head-on collisions on the smoke-filled roads. Smoke from the fires is said to have reached as far as New Zealand.

Even more tragic is that, while the numerous fires are largely the result of recent lightning strikes, authorities suspect arsonists are responsible for lighting or relighting some of the fires. Kevin Rudd, Australia's Prime Minister, described them as "mass murder.” A report released last week by the government’s Australian Institute of Criminology said half of the nation’s 20,000 to 30,000 bush fires each year are started deliberately. Bushfires are a normal event in Australia but the recent record high temperatures in combination with the ongoing drought and unfavorable winds made these fires reach unprecedented scale and ferocity.

It is a tragic irony that while these fires were raging in Victoria the northern parts of Queensland were suffering from record flooding. At least a couple of towns have been cut off completely for days. Crocodiles in flooded creeks running through the middle of some towns have hampered rescue efforts. A 5 year old boy who followed his dog into the floodwaters is feared to have been taken by a crocodile. Monsoon rains are a seasonal norm for the “top end” of Australia but, again like the fires in Victoria, the intensity this time is extreme.

Thankfully, things are quite placid here in Jindabyne.

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The following photos are from smh.com.au and guardian.co.au.

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Jindabyne - Aussie Slang (Work/Business)

After hitting 38C (100F) yesterday and 36C (97F) today, we are supposed to cool down to a high of 19C (66F) tomorrow and 12C (54F) on Tuesday. Welcome to mountain weather. I’ll take the atmospheric whiplash if it means we’ll have better sleeping weather for the next few nights.

And now for another taste of Aussie slang, this time on the subject of work/business:

hard yakka (hard work)
bottle shop (liquor store)
panel beaters (auto body repair shop)
truckie (truck driver)
tradie (tradesman)
sparkie (electrician)

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The flowers around the lake are in full bloom. Here are a couple of pics: