Take me to the river

A paddle down the Yarra to Williamstown a couple of weeks ago revealed some unexpected delights.

We put in at North Wharf, Docklands on a sunny, late winter’s day, then under the Bolte Bridge which looks so much closer to the water than from the road above.

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Past the industrial might of massive giraffe-like cranes hauling containers on and off ships. Even on a Sunday. Gasp!

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Bit of an obstacle course at first, dodging party boats, speed boats, all sorts of boats, and staying out of the way of a container ship.  A big container ship.

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Arrived at Williamstown in time for lunch but managed to avoid the seagull siege by putting in where only kayaks can get to, around the corner from the tourist park.  Thanks to Blunt’s boatyard – no cc cameras, no alarms, no rottweillers – no wonder you’ve been there for 150 years…http://www.bluntboats.com.au/history01.html.

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Then, winter in Melbourne…on the Yarra.

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And now I know, the Bolte Bridge was designed to be seen from the water.

 

Smug in Uggs

The last time I owned a pair of Ugg boots was at the age of about 14.  In those days, my girlfriends and I bought sheepskins, cut them up and somehow sewed them together to make our own, then pretended we were surfie chicks.  Even though we lived in Tyabb and weren’t allowed to go out.  Why oh why has it taken so long to fully appreciate the joy of warm feet, that only a pair of Ugg boots can bring?

Firstly, like some, I have resisted the idea of owning Ugg boots.  Mistakenly, I had assumed that Ugg boots were uncool footwear worn only by inhabitants of other suburbs.

Not so.

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Ruffle the winter clothing of anyone at all, and you will find a pair of Ugg boots not far away.  This is because they are the absolute best footwear ever.  Ugg boot owners have a special air of smugness, a kind of insouciance known only to those who have toasty warm feet, during even the most bitter Melbourne winter days.

Post-swim or post-kayak cold feet are awful.  I thought it was normal and had to be endured.  Until last week.  While downing coffee and carbs after a swim with the Williamstown Mussels, I happened to glance toward the ground.  Meeting my field of vision were Ugged feet.  Brown, pink, black, blue and purple Ugg boots.  Same after a kayak trip.

One trip to Vic Market later and I’m in the Ugg club.  I wear them to the beach and I even wore them to the supermarket this week.  If I want to feel uber-smug, I relax in my genuine Danish Deluxe 1970s black leather recliner and read the Guardian on my iPad, feet happily cocooned in lambswool and suede.

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Ugg boot centre of diversity unfortunately concealed by the table. But they are there.