And the kids from Bundoora were scrabbling around in the ceiling

Apart from all the dogs, when the Baron and I visited, Bright (and surrounding towns) seemed to be full to the brim with Melbourne. It is, of course, a well known tradition in Melbourne that whenever someone has a week off, or a long weekend off, or a day off, or even an afternoon off, they must immediately off to the countryside.

The entirety of Hawthorn had decamped at the riverside, while the residents of Fitzroy and Northcote contented themselves by riding around in circles around the town, bumping into everybody else (Bright was a change in scenery for them, though not necessarily a change in lifestyle). I'm pretty sure that at least half of the population of Box Hill drove up and down the hill where we were staying, sometimes stopping to take pictures, and as for the residents of Camberwell, well, I think they pretty much accounted for the queues at the chocolate shop.

A Monday morning drive to the Buckland Valley cemetery found the suburb of Carlton driving around in four wheel drives, with a Yarraville contingent standing in an adjacent field and poking at the Hay bales. Meanwhile, reports were that Richmond residents had arranged to camp with their families in tactical locations up and down the various surrounding rivers flowing from or into the Ovens, complete with squalling babe, in order to provide entertainment for residents hailing from Collingwood, who were on the opposite side of the rivers, attempting to fish.

All in all it was a pleasant holiday, but quite a relief to get back to our own corner of Melbourne, the suburb of Lalor, and unfold our little patch of land again (for, of course, it is also a tradition in Melbourne that when going on break one must take all one's children, food, dogs, cats, chickens, goats, yaks, bees, and the rest of one's property with one) behind our letterbox.