Yep, it looks like a plain old motel. More on that later, but I need to bring you up to date first.
Last night we checked into the Alpine Motel, and met the owner, Andrew. By his own admission, he was burnt out from 6 years in hospitality and he said he needed a rest, and had just sold the motel. He had "worst customer" stories to share and even had plans to set up a website.. Sort of the antithesis to Trip Advisor (on which website he had been compared with Basil Fawlty).
He was pleasant and friendly and gave us dinner advice. He also asked us what time we would be having breakfast and in response to us said "don't make it too early".
The cabin was comfortable and replete with power points (a bonus for us technophiles). Chargers chugging away, we showered and braved the elements for the one minute traverse of the adjoining Savoy car park for a smorgasbord meal. The Savoy. "Sounds grand" I hear you thinking. Imagine the posh Savoy hotel chain and think of a lovely stately hotel overlooking an austere European square. Now forget that and think of an Australian pokies place. Now add in a strong Italian influence. Confusing imagery? Now you've got it. That's the Savoy, Myrtleford. The food was great though and we retired knowing that we had replaced the burned calories from the day (three times!)
Anyhow, back to this morning. We were up and ready by 8:30 but obediently we delayed our appearance for breakfast.
while we were waiting, Mary discovered this on my leg
.. all diagnostic suggestions considered! (shingles?? but I feel fine and there's no pain.)
We finally headed for breakfast only to be told by Andrew (more dismissively than apologetically we thought) that the cook had left at 8:30 for trade school, which A had forgotten. This was a loss of the same proportions as the "we don't do eggs" episode at Bright and left us devastated. In true first world style, however we recovered and raced back to change from breakfast attire to riding attire.. This breakfast would have to be "en route" , "a la carte" and possibly even "de rigeur". Thanks to the French, we had a plan!
We chanced upon a roadside cafe which did perfect eggs and decent coffee.. We were happy again. It was after 11 when we set off.
The day's ride had three segments.
1. A lovely serene valley gently upstream on the Yackandandah road
2. After the valley came a "relentless" ascent to historic town Stanley
3. After the beautiful Stanley we had a 10km undulating descent to Beechworth which was a whizz!
I enjoyed the day thoroughly. It was also wonderful consuming cold authentic apple juice not long before Stanley. The ascent was continuous and steady, with Belinda's Garmin announcing an 11% gradient at one stage.
I was surprised that we had arrived in Beechworth by 3pm.
Once settled in we ensconced ourselves in the room. I walked into town and took a few snaps in the rapidly descending evening sunrays.
This runs through the town and has been cut by people. I need to look up why they did this. Was it to sluice gold, or to find alluvial fragments washed downstream?
I took this because this is the same bank I photographed as a boy many years ago. It was my first photograph and I developed and printed the film with my father, Barry.
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