Sick-ney

The drive from Port Campbell was delayed by a water crisis where the town's supply was interrupted and we all had to wash up from a mineral bottle (even poor A who had a shit before realising there's no acqua!) It wasn't much fun on a f%cking cold wintry morning lor! After wiping the layer of ice off our Mitsubishi Outlander, we cut thro' miles of miserable fog and finally got a slice of sunshine at Campertown, a quaint town marked by a memerising row of tall blooming trees.

The rugged scenery was lovely and we took turns at the wheel so our eyes were not just focused on the speed cameras and animal warnings. I must say Aussie drivers are such a nice law-abiding bunch. Halfway thro, I got stopped by a lady cop who pointed out that I had exceeded the speed limit of 50km/h (I sheepishly admitted that I was going at 110km/h) and put me thro' my first breath-analyser test! Yay! I passed it of course since it was only 11am (darn, is this country full of alcoholics?). A pity the gang didn't take a photo of the hilarious scene when I was blowing into the kit!

Since it was the Queen's birthday holiday weekend, most B&Bs in the Wangaratta wine region were full and we had to contend with a stay in Albury town. At least it was close enough to Rutherglen and the receptionists pointed us to the All Saints estate, 45mins' drive away. As it was already pitch dark at 5pm and the signs unclear, we got lost and only reached the vineyard 1 and 1/2 hours later hungry, thirsty and frustrated.

Fortunately our table was reserved by the bubbly waitress who piled it with French-style country fare such as a superb goat's curd souffle with rocket-pear salad and huge portions of steak with perfectly roasted rosemary potatoes - along with a bottle of St Leonard's gold medal Merlot at only A$30 (molto economico!). As Rutherglen was known for their dolce dessert-style vino, we gladly coughed up A$55 for each half bottle of 25 year-old Grand Tokay and Muscat - both liquid gold sliding down our throats. Too bad we didn't have time to explore the cellar doors at the other estates, otherwise we'd lag back more than 4 bottles!

The next morning, we left Albury early on a 6-hour drive to Sydney and found Brian MIA in his Hyde Park apartment. We drove around till I spotted him blinding in his bermudas on the cold wintry streets. In my excitement, I screamed his name which echoed in the streets and caused everyone to turn and stare at the crazed bitch. Welcome to Sydney!

B's small apartment was more than made up by its central location and killer view overlooking the park and harbour. Ever the culinary host, he pampered us with a soul-satisfying homecooked dinner and lots of good laughs. We worked off the calories with a brisk 15mins walk to King's Cross for some live cabaret action at Bar Me, a cosy underground joint packed to the last chair (A$20 for cover). Then followed by a round of yummy Pink Lychee Caiprinha at Libertine, an achingly hip Vietnamese restaurant-bar. King's Cross still had the same pulsating energy as I recalled 10 years ago - just trendier and less seedy now. We trotted to have the glorious beef pies with mash pea and hot dripping gravy at Harry's Cafe de Wheels (A$4.95). This punk jumped queue and I put him in his place! V@ff@nculo!