SvenJen 2019 - Bunnehs in Ballarat

*Warning - those with a low threshold tolerance of fun and silliness are asked to go no further* - this is the tale of the annual adventure of two gals who somehow (looong story) became 'Bunnehs', who each year venture on a fibre journey to somewhere (most often Ballarat) where they exit the real world, remove all filters, and become... Pure BUN!! PB = Pink Bunneh, BB = Blonde Bunneh.

SvenJen 2019 was again a journey to Ballarat Grammar, but first enjoying 3 nights exploring Kyneton and surrounds. The new Bunnehs got a good workout performing the emergency procedures

on the plane, before settling into the hire car for the trip to Kyneton. We mooted the idea of lunch at Macedon, keen to avoid a hangry, but with just one place open, decided to head straight for Kyneton.

With time to fill in before we could access our burrow, we were more than happy to enjoy some delicious noms at The Little Swallow, before strolling around town to discover that disappointment has a day, and that day is Tuesday. Weekend towns are closed Tuesday and Wednesday. Oh well.

After settling into the burrow, the twilight surrounds looked so lovely that I kept trying to go and enjoy the porch, only to come back shrieking each time that it was "not nice”! Brrrrrrr!

After an early night, and subsequent early upz, the Bunnehs struggle to find the correct lighting arrangement for gumboot coffee (plunger) making, settling for "aaagh, ok, but still not good”. One Bunneh in particular starts to feel very chirpy, and issues a ‘Morning Warning’!! Real coffee is soon sourced at Cookie Crumb, AKA Cookie Monster/ Cookie Dough/ Crumbed Cookie, before a successful walk along Campasque River, before heading to Woodend, where it is decided over coffee that it is indeed very cold and miserable, and we should

not attempt Hanging Rock. We drive to Daylesford, and the Wombat Gardens, climbing the dizzying spiral staircase of the memorial tower which I declare to be a fine venue for suicide, received with raised eyebrows. Just sayin’. We visit the Convent Gallery and some op-shops before a hangry looms, quickly averted by attendance at Muffins and More for some totally dericious salads.

Mmmm, felafel derishiousness!

 We again visit the Mill Markets, which provide a fabulous trip down memory

We find "A Bunny in Trouble"!!

lane for Bunnehs with childhoods in the 70’s-80’s. BB tries on a boot and ends up cockroached on the floor, leg in the air, with a request of ‘ugh, Bunneh!!’, for it to be removed!!

Next morning, the coffee should have been left another 30 seconds to brew – disappointment haz a flavour. As I write the notes I am devastated when the black pen runs out and I must use BB’s blue – ugh!! To which she replies, “We gotta work on ya quirks”! We drop in to Monsieur Pierre for coffee and head to Black (Forest!) Hill Reserve, finding many wallabies, including a joey in the pouch!

Unlike previous walks in Victoria, there are maps at the beginning, but without reference points noted along the way…again, Victoria, you’re doing it wrong! What do you do when you don't know which way to walk? Why, you throw a glove up in the air and follow what it says! The Little Swallow is revisited, then it is indeed off to Hanging Rock! The Discovery Centre educates BB on the Picnic at Hanging Rock film, and the importance of calling out Mirandaaaa, but she remains dubious. However, she finds $10 on the Summit Path – the money required to pay for our attendance – winning!!

Miraaandaaaaaaa!!

Don't worry, go through, I've got this!!

Thoughts of enjoying a fresh scone and jam are thwarted by PB struggling to digest breakfast - food and exercise just belong no-where near together with me! Sconeless, we drive to Mount Macedon and visit the massive Memorial Cross, and where I found out that the lovely soft-looking topiaried bushes are not at all soft…. We then visit Sanitorium Lake – AKA TB lake or mud-hole of crapulence – a very disappointing stroll.

Ahhhh, TB AKA Sanitorium Lake.

Things go ‘downhill’ as we backtrack to find ‘anti-gravity hill’ with no success. Our final try is Stanley Park, but on arrival BB says “See how I’m not stopping the car”? “I am so ok with you not stopping the car" – even the car park looks barren and uninviting. However, we gain solace in the fact that this takes us down one of the many spectacular Avenues of Honour lined with autumn foliage, before

stopping at Duck Duck Goose for refreshments of savoury scone, coffee, and a Rosemary Greyhound (gin) – mmmm, delishiousness has a location, and it is here, until the weird cat’s-piss-like smell and my sore leg indicate that perhaps it is indeed, time to go.

Our last morning in Kyneton begins over the road at FIKA for our coffee, before a trot into town, brekky, and packing up the burrow. First stop is Turpins Falls, where we should have heeded the graffitied sign (Rated *1 STAR SHIT WATERFALL) – I even changed from my boots into my sneakers to trot down and see this disappointment.

SOMEWHERE ON THE SIDE THERE, RIGHT SIDE, IS SOME KIND OF WATERFALL

Onwards to Castlemaine, where we drive through the reasonably large town and happen across the Botanic Gardens, and enjoy a leg stretch, fresh air, ducks, and European-style deck chairs and bean bags!

Again onwards to Ballarat for a few supplies, including a kebab to see us through the afternoon. As we unload the car, BB has a skip to her step – quite unlike the first arrival to Ballarat all those years ago! Or is this because she is about to “go and be awesome” at training?! Momentary horror when she thinks we are to share a room (am I really that bad, Bun?!) before we are delighted to find our separate rooms located right across from the showers and toilets!! Hurrah!
To be continued.....