|Look at that sun! We could be in Champagne.|
As we drove away it still looked suspiciously like a toilet block, but on we went! A pullover, sunshower and u-turn later, we arrived at Oakridge. I probably should mention at this point that this was the AFL grand final Saturday, thus we were amazed to find anyone actually at the cellar door. For any international (or non Victorian readers, because they consider it a world sport...) AFL is a provincial and somewhat bizarre ball game, where players fumble around for the small version of what looks a rugby ball, occasionally trying to get the ball between a couple of pairs of sticks. Anyway, being the truly international sport it is I was a amazed to find this place full of young women.
|Slightly blurred map, after a tasting or two.|
Continued in part two, which is on the way...