the long coastal route

On our second day driving South there are still 600 kilometers to Melbourne. It's still overcast and the car proves to be too much for me; I keep insisting we stop. I summon up dreams, aided by glossy travel magazines and the shops that line the two-lane road, of the little side-tracks that will make the trip.

In Tilba, we buy apple box smoked cheese at the ABC Cheese factory, and talk to a cat with a big round face. Tilba is a Trust Village. That means the government helps to keep it cute, we decide. It was one of the gold-mining towns that stayed around, mainly because of the cheese industry.

It's Noomora, however, with the slogan, “The Way Life Should Be”. We find it a little presumptuous and drive on.

In Cobargo we have coffees and scones, which are what I would call biscuits. These are not at all shabby, but melt in your mouth, with whipped cream and strawberry jam. The cafe is part old train car, and run by straight-forward, big-boned women both abrupt and enthusiastic about their service and their food. Grudgingly, they draped colored tinsel garlands across a doorway here, and an electrical box there, joking about being merry hos.

We also buy books there. Christmas presents some, and poetry by an Australian woman poet.