Snap: Tomorrow¹s Getaway (a bit touristy)
 
Oh to be already on the road to Port Fairy ­
Doncaster behind us as we join the freeway,
the morning rush hour over, quickly through
between old cemetery and university colleges,
 
into the parkland with the forlorn cairn
to Burke and Wills where they camped with camels
and got a great send-off decamping away
for the hinterland of hope and dismay.
 
Nothing unknown for us on our journey
to a holiday familiar in all respects,
but for the beach house found on the internet,
promising much: ŒLike the bow of an ocean liner
 
Loughview protrudes from the dunesŠ
panoramic views of our beautiful bay.¹
Too much to hope for? Push on and we¹ll see.
Three hours at least of fast driving ahead.
 
Past the zoo which is overdue for a visit
(who¹ll lend us a child to validate us?);
onto the tollway up above the docks; over
the elegant Bridge named for the inelegant Premier;
 
and our first view of the sea, though only the bay,
sprinkled with shipping to keep us consuming,
and maybe a glimpse of the big dredge at work
so our future may welcome ships even bigger.
 
Round to the West Gate Bridge over the Yarra ­
views even wider of our city¹s constituents;
most folk at work while we are at leisure,
children tiny in asphalt schoolyards.
 
Swerve south-west and watch the speedo;
the wide open road has earned me past fines.
Soon clear the last of the flaring refineries,
the new subdivisions, the open range zoo.
 
The signpost to Lara brings back that bad day
when wildfire incinerated motorists.
Sweep into Geelong for a timely coffee,
out again onto the Great Ocean Road.
 
Ah if only time permitted to stay on it!
Gorgeous the views, enticing the settlements.
Days could be spent here Torquay to Apollo Bay,
but inland¹s the highway to take us west fast.
 
Tomorrow we¹ll take it, through small country towns,
their tree-lined Avenues of Honour (both wars),
shoulder-boxes for ferrets outside hardware stores,
dealers¹ yards full of bright new tractors.
 
It¹s the Western District pioneered by Squatters
whose guns and sheep displaced the Aborigines.
Just one sign points to Framlingham
and its remnant Aboriginal community.
 
We¹ll quietly sweep on to Tower Hill, detour maybe
to its reserve with its Bass Strait sea views
where the ŒShipwreck Coast¹ begins (a bit touristy);
old craters ­  wetlands restored ­  bird sanctuary.
 
There¹s the Tower Hill cemetery
facing the estranging sea
where closes the slow tragic trilogy
of The Fortunes of Richard Mahony.
 
Afternoon may be fading by now, push on firmly
past Killarney, by the road between the dunes
and the river named by the Irish settlers Moyne,
and watch for a little sign ŒLoughview¹,
 
there we¹ll be Thursday to Thursday,
enjoying all the good old things of Port Fairy.
 
Wednesday 5 March 2008
 Max Richards
Doncaster, Victoria