Its Mothers Day, but there are no or for Issy. Our not so kind hosts (refer previous entry) need us to move apartments this morning. Weve been told we have to be out of this apartment by 10am on pain of death, but apparently we cant get into the second one, several kilometres away, until 2pm. So it seems we‘ll be temporarily homeless. Our hosts keep sending us emails asking us for feedback. I would have thought we gave them more than enough last night, but theyre clearly gluttons for punishment. I salivate as I think about what Im going to put in the review. Soon after weve moved out they ring us to tell us that theyve again (?) gone out of their way to help us, and have arranged for us to have access to the second apartment by noon, thus very kindly reducing our homeless hours from four to only two. How generous. They go on tell us that they hope this will save them from a bad review. Boy have I got news for them. It certainly wont be pretty.
for a small bottle of water, which we assumed They then follow up with a message asking us to ring them to give them our credit card details for the extra money theyve kindly charged us to avoid us having to stay in a room totally devoid of windows. When we ring them back they tell us that theyve managed to sort this out themselves; it seems theyve managed to dredge up details of one of our cards from somewhere else. This is very worrying. Im already anticipating a few long nights trawling through credit card statements trying to discover what other pain they might have chosen to inflict without our knowledge. Grrrrrr.
We reflect that this is right up there with our worst ever experiences, and were very much reminded of our old friends at the Starry Sky Charming House in Sardinia (refer blogs from early August 2019). Ive chosen not to name our Mildura hosts. I think were probably fairly safe from Italian law suits, but I dont particularly want to risk us being dragged off to court by these clowns. I certainly wouldnt put it past them.
homeless hours at a downtown establishment called Mooses. The decor includes statues of Native American Indians, and mooses heads on the walls. It feels like weve been transported to Canada. Perhaps unsurprisingly theres no shortage of red meat on the menu.
We decide to head off to the Australian Inland Botanic Gardens which are across the border near Buronga in New South Wales. As we head across the river we reflect on the fact that this is the first time weve crossed a state or international border since 2019. Who would have foreseen that eighteen months ago?
We read that the massive 150 hectare gardens were the brainchild of scientists from the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organization (CSIRO), and were apparently the first such establishment in the Southern Hemisphere. First plantings were undertaken in 1991. The site is very impressive and includes plants from regions across the globe. Its generally very informal, the main exception being a very large and extremely formal rose garden. The soils looks very dry and sandy, and whilst most of the plants here are probably drought tolerant to some degree, theres certainly no shortage of backup irrigation. We admire the
Wow Tree, which is said to be more than 2,500 years old. Whilst weve got no reason to doubt this, it must be incredibly slow growing; its not particularly big. A former Victorian Premier, Jeff Kennett, is listed as one of the gardens benefactors. I was fairly sure wed left our home state when we crossed the river, and I would have thought our Jeff would have cut his right arm off before helping anything located in the great rival state of New South Wales. Maybe politicians soften a bit after they leave office.
Emma rings in from Canada for Mothers Day. She sounds a bit homesick and weighed down by her current visa issues, which have due to COVID. Were missing her more than ever since not being able to visit. We talk to her from seats in the gardens outdoor kitchen.
