17/10/2009
In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours.
Mark Twain
The annual Tesselaar Tulip Festival is here again in Melbourne and after many, many wet weekends, we jumped at the chance when the sun decided to sneak out of its hiatus and took a pleasant drive to Silvan.
And we arrived upon fields of blooming tulips…
Tulip Festivals are being celebrated throughout many cities in the world as tulips are considered a welcome herald of Spring.
Time to don those wooden clogs as the entire tulip farm was transformed into a mini Holland.
Fabio, the garden gnome catching a breather amongst the colourful flower beds.
And a visit to the festival would not be complete without a jolt of sugar hit at the end of a beautiful day, Dutch pancakes, of course =)
1/10/2009
So I’ve finally decided to return to this space before it’s overgrown with tumbleweeds and spam comments!
It’s finally spring time now in Melbourne, yet, the winter chills are still lingering and the thermostat absolutely refuses to register anything above 18C. It rained incessantly for the past couple of weeks and for the first time in years, the farmers rejoiced and the water catchments in this drought stricken state actually breathed a sigh of relief.
Today is the first tolerable day without the desperate need for a winter jacket, so before the snow melts off the tips of the mountains and the bush fire season begins, here are some pictures from a recent day trip up to the snow.
Still mentally scarred from our first snowboarding experience yonks ago, we decided to take it easy, ride the lifts and enjoy the sights.
The weather was forecasted to be sunny and 21C that day, albeit having to trudge across some very treacherous slushiness at the foot of the mountain, it was an absolutely glorious day.
Note to self: Mt Buller is not a pretty place post 12pm, unless you fancy kicking slush around with a bunch of kids.
So we wandered off to a slightly deserted corner and took pictures with our very own snow man.
Lil’ Jo is only 2 years old and skis like a little pro! Still feeling the shame etched deeply on our foreheads, we vowed to take some decent ski lessons next year.
Future snow trip: Chamonix, France =)