All a bit of a Beleura

Thurs, Dec 22--

A day of serendipity and a great finish to my Australian adventure. In the morning, I called the estate garden of Beleura, which is only viewed by appointment. The Estate Director, Mr. Anthony Knight, informed me that I could join a tour group at 11:30 a.m. and gave me directions that included a lot of things like "after the Bunning's hardware store, take the second left and go round the traffic circle to the third exit..." Unfortunately, I ended up approaching the beautiful seaside town of Mornington (south of Melbourne) from a different direction than Mr. Knight anticipated, and his directions became meaningless. Remind me to ask for street names and compass directions next time!

Anyway, after another phone call, I finally arrived--but too late to join the tour, luckily, as this got me a personalized tour by Mr. Knight (who wouldn't look out of place in the House of Lords) himself. This was a lucky stroke not only beacuse it was more enjoyable for me (and I got the garden all to myself) but also because it enabled me to arrange for the possibility of two students from Fanshawe's Horticultural Technician program to be placed here in future.

Beleura is a beautifully individual garden, with the characteristic charm and quirkiness that is the mark of a dearly loved private garden. It has developed over many years under several different owners, and has everything from very formal areas to a tiny children's garden complete with a wizard's cottage (not Disney-ish, more LOTR-ish). It also has one area laid out by the Aussie designer I have mentioned previoulsy, Edna Walling, which is the connection that caused me to seek it out.

As I was wandering happily down a lavender-lined path in the veg garden, I was approached by a lady who might have stepped out of an English country house magazine, who inquired if I'd like to join the tour group for lunch and a 'dramatic presentation.' I agreed, of course (not being one to pass up a free lunch!) and was treated to crustless smoked salmon etc. sandwiches, champagne (which Aussies drink like water, I've realized), and a gorgeous Christmas pudding complete with brandy hard sauce, served inside the elegant Victorian-era estate centre. The estate garden volunteers (mostly retirees) were keenly interested in hearing all about Canadian gardening, and made me warmly welcome.

Then it was time for the presentation--down the curving staircase swept a woman in Victorian dress, half-spectacles perched on her nose. She seated herself on a dais in front of the group, cleared her throat, and launched into a fabulous reading of the original Dickens A Christmas Carol. It was a bit edited for the sake of time, but nevertheless lasted 1 1/2 hours. It was a compelling performance, and I enjoyed every minute of it, but the room was warm, it was mid-afternoon, there had been champagne for lunch, and not a few of the white-haired audience members nodded off. Just as the reader reached the part where Scrooge is shown Tiny Tim's empty chair, one of the old darlings let out a loud sighing snore, which caused a fit of giggling across the room! I felt really privileged to have had this insider's experience on my last day in this country.

I had to include this shot of the incredible bougainvillea I could see out the window during the reading, even though it's sideways--pretty gorgeous!

I spent until about 4 p.m. in this lovely place, then drove a bit further down the stunning Mornington Penninsula, enjoying the warm golden sun on the almost-empty beaches, and the pretty villages I passed through. Finally, however, I realized that I had gone much too far south, and had to retrace my 'steps' to cut across east to the opposite penninsula, which leads down to Philip Island. This drive is faster and less pretty than the Mornington Penninsula, until you cross over to the island itself, when all changes. Philip is a volcanic island, and consists entirely of a vast nature preserve. At one point is a seabird breeding sanctaury, with a view across to the smaller islands of a seal sanctuary that shelters about 20, 000 of these big mammals. These are a bit too far offshore to see the seals, but telescopes are provided, and the setting is magnificent anyway (see below--the seal islands are in the extreme top right of the picture at left)).

As it approached sunset, I headed to another part of the shoreline to see the famous Penguin Parade. These tiny penguins (which used to be called fairy penguins but are now called little penguins), at under a foot tall are the smallest in the world. Every night just after sunset, the adults come ashore in groups of about 30 (called rafts) and waddle up the beach together, then disperse to their burrows in the sandy dunes, greeting their mates and chicks with regurgitated fish from the day's catch (yum). They have been a tourist attraction since the 1920's, but to protect them, the viewing is now carefully controlled (for example, no photography of any kind is allowed--the photos below are of an educational display in the visitor centre--lifelike, though, eh?). It is both thrilling and very bizarre to be one of perhaps a thousand people perched on concrete steps in the dim light, watching as the little birds come ashore. Each new raft toddles a bit out of the water, hesitates, then streams back into the waves, over and over again until they are convinced it is safe to cross the expanse of beach. They truly do look like tiny Charlie Chaplins, with their white breasts flashing in the twilight. The day I was there, about 2,000 had come ashore the previous night, which I understand is the highest count its ever been, a good sign that the colony is healthy.

The real fun begins as you return along the raised boardwalk back up to the visitor centre, however, as the penguins trudge right alongside, mostly oblivious to the throngs, and then turn aside to greet their families. The night is filled with their little trilling calls, and it is really quite magical. Part of me found the voyeurism disturbing, but I recognized that the entrance fees and tourism pays for all the good conservation and protection work done, so I was (mostly) ok with it.

The ultimate test of my new driving skills, driving the 150k back to Melbourne in the dark--but luckily I followed a tour bus almost all the way, so it was easy--and not a single leaping kangaroos to startle me along the way!

Tomorrow will be a quiet day packing up to head to the real destination--New Zealand!!