Across Continents

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Measure of Merimbula

August 11th, 2011

By the time I actually reached Merimbula it was dark. A few unexpected climbs towards the end. Some sharp, others more drawn out. I’d found the hostel on the outskirts of town without too much difficulty, the key left in the mailbox. A sign said food and drink wasn’t permitted in the room, but made no mention of bicycles.

I wandered back into the centre a little later, and a brief foray into the late night supermarket. Like much of the South Coast, the town wasn’t unpleasant. Just unremarkable. A few more cafes than I’d seen elsewhere, by now all closed. And quite a lot of boutiques. Lingerie mostly. Purveyors of cheap nylon rather than soft silk.

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South Coast laments

August 8th, 2011

Suppose the South Coast of New South Wales wasn’t exactly unpleasant. It just seemed a bit dull. Recollections of the various small towns quickly blurring. Few resilient memories. The hostel at Batemans Bay, the only resident, a few early nineties videos for company. It, like most in Australia, lacked the finesse of those in New Zealand, but it was functional. And warmer than the tent. In part inspired by the hostel, I decided to push hard for another further south at Merimbula. Quiet time of year, curious to see if I’d get the place to myself once more.

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