wow. what a trip. so many things to write about that it's almost impossible to start! so i'll just randomly insert interesting events as they come to mind, and hopefully they will somehow dissolve into a coherent lump of an entry(s).
Mt Buller was totally not on the agenda, at least until the maturing stages of our trip preparation, which is to say, around the 10 1/2 th hour. somehow, just driving to the end of Great Ocean Road (GOR) and then driving back did not seem like a very satisfying journey (kinda like a Star Cruises cruise-to-nowhere-and-then-come-back-to-singapore package) and so we threw a metaphorical dart somewhere east of the GOR, gasping in surprise as it missed Melbourne and landed on the dot that was the snow-capped Mt Buller. Actually, missing Melbourne was rather intentional, as it contained memories that were very complex and best left alone, somewhere in the untrodden alleys of Back-Of-The-Mind. So Mt Buller it had to be, with a deliberate detour around Melbourne city "entirely for traffic reasons".
After making the mistake of telling Budget car hire that we were going to drive out of Adelaide (which added a whopping 5 bucks a day to our already battered budget) we decided not to tell them that we would also be driving up the more-than-likely-to-be-snow-covered roads of Mt Buller, for that would most certainly have upgraded us to a very unBudget 4WD which would have rendered even Great Ocean Road out of the question. So off we drove, intrepid adventurers that we were, with the prospect of skidding off the edge of cliffs firmly etched into our nervous minds. We also, by the way, declined the car insurance package, which would more aptly be termed Daylight Robbery. This definitely added to the thrill of adventure that ever once in awhile sent shivers down our spines, especially when passing by huge "Transformers!" trucks on their raging rampages in the opposite direction.
So somehow we reached the foot of Mt Buller, and were promptly issued snow chains from the ski rental place which loudly advertised the fact that they were free, with ski equipment rental. They told us cheerfully, just before we left, that we only need to affix our snow chains if told to do so. So, armed with our defence against the elements, we sped up towards Mt Buller, eager to make it up there before nightfall.
We didn't. By the time we reached the ticket booth (yes we need tickets to access nature, it's that precious nowadays) dusk had already enveloped us in its chilly embrace, and we were slapped with the dreadful reality that "by the way, they are fixing snow chains just about 8km up the mountain". Indeed at just about 8km up the mountain, we found ourselves in the midst of a huge army of prospective skiers, trying, many of us for the first time, to
zhng our front wheels with the menacing looking chains. They were menacing indeed, especially to my fingers, which threaten to either frostbite their way off my hands or to freeze me into a permanent bond with the chains. After much frenzied negotiation with the unwieldy heaps of metal, I managed to unite them with the protesting wheels and retreat hastily to the safety of the drivers seat, only to find out that I couldn't feel the steering wheel. There it was, clear as light-on-car-ceiling, clasped docilely in my hands, but my fingers would not acknowledge its existence. They reluctantly gave in however, when Char introduced my gloves into the equation.
Before we started the snow chain ordeal, I had asked a shivering driver crouching beside me if he was putting on or taking off his snow chains. "Taking off," he replied, adding that "it's pretty bad up there". That statement was confirmed not long after, when, in quick and cheerful succession, 1) the windshield fogged up on the inside 2) we lost sight of the road divider 3) we ventured blindly into oncoming traffic 4) the snow got worse, causing everyone to high beam us 5) we discovered barely in time that our side of the road drops off into nothingness 6) an enormous show-chain-less 4WD thundered past us, leaving us feeling enormously inadequate. Nevertheless, after what seemed like many months of gluing my face to the windscreen so I could see past the glass, we managed to arrive at the parking space and, without any antifreeze in our radiator and without pulling up our wipers so they won't get frozen onto the windscreen, we clambered onto the snow taxi (another 15 bucks) which trundled us, pale and shivering, towards our ski lodge.
Jungfrau Ski Lodge, where we finally collapsed, proved to be....AMAZING
(but expensive). But that is another story, and will be told another time.
Potenco, a spin-off from Squid Labs, has come up with this dynamo-like contraption that generates electricity by the work of a human hand pulling the cord. It is described in greater detail in the following excerpt from We-Make-Money-Not-Art:
