Day 16: Orange > Canberra
We could, as subsequent events suggested, have booked a continental breakfast the night before and had it delivered to the room without actually delaying our departure, but in the thick of the booking in process the night before those details had gone through to the keeper, so we found ourselves on the road bright and early, dealing with condensation issues as we left the motel car park just before seven forty-five.
A thornier problem was the question of the best route to get us to Canberra.
A quick look at the Maps app revealed that the most direct route seemed to involve a twisting, turning road, probably through mountains, which was quickly ruled a non-starter.
Inquiries at Reception on the way out hadn't exactly been helpful, with suggestions we head all the way to Bathurst and double back, but a closer look at Maps revealed a reasonable looking semi short cut through Millthorpe and Blayney and we figured we'd be able to get further suggestions when we reached Cowra, where we hoped the Tourist Information would be open when we arrived.
That was, fortunately, the way things panned out, and those inquiries directed us towards the route the locals use when they're heading that way through Boorowa and Yass before joining the Barton Highway to take us to the national capital.
We were on our way out of Cowra when the first of Staggy's text messages arrived, a matter complicated by my inability to send a response from my mobile, and quirks on Madam's model made tapping out text on a moving platform a little too close to the too hard basket, so an actual call seemed a better option.
Since we were headed for the markets at the Old Bus Depot, that seemed like a reasonable rendezvous, so that was pencilled in before we hit the Barton, and we made our way into the national capital, through the downtown area and across Lake Burley Griffin without incident until a missed turn complicated matters in the midst of the Parliamentary Triangle.
It wasn't hard to fix the problem, but it would have been better it it hadn't happened at all, if you catch my drift.
We found a park at the back of what we presumed were the markets, and set off on foot, with another phone call to establish that we'd arrived. Once inside we found an impressive array of stalls, which could well have consumed a couple of hours if we'd consumed breakfast.
Since we hadn't, something to eat was the first priority, with Madam claiming the last of one line of French pastries before I spotted a Spanish stall in what was, effectively, the Food Court. Abondigas on a bread roll mightn't exactly be authentic Iberian delivery, but the meatballs went down well, the roll provided a bit of filling, and there was room left on both sides of the table for a shared serve of paella.
Fed, the next item on the agenda was a jacket to replace the one Madam had left in Bowen, and Staggy's suggestion that we try looking at a stall called Material Pleasures proved spot on, and provided a straightforward rendezvous once the I'm here, where are you guys? call came through.
After a ramble through the Markets, a pause for coffee at the Canberra glassworks, we were off to the National Gallery, where Madam wasn't sure about catching the last day of the Ballets Russes exhibition, but ended up going in after helpful advice from someone who'd already been.
Mess Stagg and I took a stroll around the rest of the public bit, pausing for a lengthy chat in front of Blue Poles, which, some forty years after the controversy, looked remarkably innocuous amidst the other pieces. Still, it was a reminder of how far things have moved since the Whitlam Era, and reinforced my own aversion to ever going back to anything resembling the fifties.
After the Gallery, it was off to the accommodation in Narrabundah at the Hotel Heritage, and a break for an hour and a half before Staggy's collected us for dinner, ferrying us across to Timmy's Kitchen in Manuka, which delivers a quality and very tasty line in Chinese, Malaysian and Singaporean cuisine, which went down rather well with a Bloodwood Big Men In Tights and a Chardonnay.
A cup of coffee and a chat back in the hotel room, and we were ready for the cot, with the following day's game plan involving a run around some wineries in the morning and something in the regular tourist itinerary in the afternoon.