Ah, Victoria, ah Melbourne, ah Ferntree Gully (or FTG as I like to call it). Hrm. What shall I say? Well, can I admit sheepishly I have discovered I am not a “country” person? I had some pretty high and mighty aspirations about living some kind of arty, muso lifestyle out in the Dandenong ranges in Victoria. Playing my banjo on the porch, stoking the woodburning stove, relaxed strolls into the hills with my trusty hound faithfully at my heel. Alas, my constitution is one more comfortable with 24 hour garages, ADSL and (wait for it..) central heating.

Frentree gully itself is a pretty, leafy suburb 50 minutes or so outside Melbourne city centre. The highstreet appears relatively normal but on closer inpsection resembles an abandoned town from a zombie movie or (dare I say it) Day of the Triffids. Shops still have full window displays and notices advertising sales or discounts but they never open. It’s eerie, as if the proprietors had to leave in a hurry - or just never turned up one day and forgot to tell anyone. It’s difficult to tell just how long these stores ceased trading. Was it last week? Or a few months ago? Maybe longer? Some of the clothes stores seem to have stock from the ‘50’s although I can’t quite tell if this is indiciative of the somewhat stunted pace of life in the hills.

All together my escape to the hills has been rather dissapointing. Living in a drafty shack (with no roof insulation, and a single bar heater for warmth!), with a wolf-like Alaskan hound (Dog hair on all my black clothes!… in my coffee!) without the constant patter of life and noise and business around me, I feel stranded. Lacking inspiration. Swooze (girly mate from London and more) always said living in Brixton, London was about having a need for high levels of stimulation from one’s environment, and now I see her point. Put me in a busy ’net cafe in the CBD and I can trip along happily, but out in the wilds? Nuh. Won’t work. Also I should mention last nights last ditch attempt to score mere ciggies, stomping around “town” at 10.30 pm and failing miserably (although I was rather pleased with a somewhat testy lecture to the landlord of the only tavern in FTG about the financial incentives of installing a cigarette machine), I have learned a valuble lesson about myself. City girl. Oh yes. I shall make a concerted effort to not winge about the shortcomings and expenses of city life. Come Wednesday - back to Sydney, and my local bar full of urban reprobates, wildlife in carefully planned park areas (with a swimming pool!), quality coffee or takeway on the corner, and a bottleshop I can dash barefoot to!
See you soon innercity Sydney, all is forgiven! :-)