Day 3 - Adelaide, Mount Lofty, Brighton, One Tree Hill
So we decided to head upwards in a more conventional way, driving up to the top of Mount Lofty. This peak occupies a eucalypt forest devastated by fire in the early 1980s, and is topped by a the fire observation tower pictured here.
It also has a rather older tower (not for spotting fires). It claims to have a series of forest walks, but the one advertised as taking 20 minutes merely took us round to the other side of the tower, lasting about 90 seconds. Either people are supposed to walk very slowly, or we had failed to follow the instructions somehow.
Finally, Mt Lofty boasts a monastery. Or a former monastery, one assumes, unless monks these days have taken to surrounding themselves with barbed wire and putting bloody great signs warning you that if you go any further you will be eaten by Rottweilers (though presumably, peaceful, contemplative Rottweilers).
A leisurely drive around the outskirts of Adelaide took us to Brighton, which has a beach (a slightly warmer one than the one in Britain), and the traditional complement of teenagers jumping off the end of the jetty to try to impress their girlfriends. And also one fully-grown adult who, for reasons best known to himself, decided to join in. Sadly (or hilariously, depedning on your point of view), he caught his foot on the fence as he jumped over and landed in the water five metres below with a belly flop audible in Perth.
Lunch was at a Greek-Italian Restaurant with quite incredibly slow service, but a friendly waitress with whom Mark flirted in a rather ineffective way (he claims he was merely trying to negotiate a discount on the meal).
In the afternoon, we went off to One Tree Hill, to count the trees. There was more than one. Most of them were looking rather livelier than this one, as well. In the background, there is the Barossa valley, another quite wonderful wine-growing region, which reminded us that, for the second day running, we had got to the wineries just as cellar door sales stopped for the day. We consoled ourselves with a couple of bottles from the drive-in offie (a Great Australian Invention).
curry was had at a subterranean restaurant with a series of entertainingly
erotic (though not very anatomically convincing) pictures on the wall..
Finally, back to the Adelaide Centra hotel for the last time, where Mark
spent a lot of time failing to get the Digicamera to talk to the computer,
and Patrick spent a similar period failing to get the computer to talk
to the internet. (This had been tried earlier in the evening, until
Rupert's wife rang us from America to tell us to be slightly less sad....)