Lake Madchester

Some weeks ago, on the day of our visit to "Exciting Ipswich" we detoured on the way back to Brisbane and several miles up a dirt track found a road that led down to Lake Manchester, which is one of Brisbane's reservoirs. On that day time and stomachs were pressing so we didn't pursue it any further.

Yesterday Nicole had the genius idea (and I don't mean that sarcastically) of going there and having a go at it with the dogs, as it isn't in a National Park and we hadn't seen any "Get Those Dorgs Orf Moi Land" type signs last time round.

A trail led up from a cark park into the forest and we were encouraged by the sight as of someone else walking their dog albiet in a different direction. We had the baby back-pack with us so suitably equipped, off we marched. Several minutes of Eloise farting around saw her in the backpack and we started to make progress, but it was damn hard work as the path climbed up and down quite steep little hills.

Soon we came to a dam which held the Lake in, and, bypassing it and walking further up the path we could see the lake stretching out in front of us. Although not very large, it nestles very attractively in the upper hills East of Mount Coot-Tha. We walked along this path which wound round its shores for a while, and it was obvious how denuded the lake is, given the drought (now officially the worst in history according to some) that currently grips Australia. The banks are ringed by layers reminiscent of geological text books, or slowly sipped coffee mugs, or poorly maintained sinks, or vanilla slices, depending on your point of view.

Matilda as usual (well, as previously usual) explored anywhere she could and we whooped as she chased a lizard of some description - apparently about a foot long, quite substantial - up a tree, where it clung to the upper branches.

We were all knackered by the time we got back to the car.

After calling off the bike ride the other day when the storm came over Brisbane, we decided to give it a go. After a mere 2k or so up the Brook to an off-leash area with dogs on leads, an incident involving Matilda and some cockatoos (dog kept under control), an unscheduled toilet stop for Tiny (bike kept under control) we stopped for a rest.

On the way back things started to go a bit pear shaped as we found that even though we were sauntering along, the dogs couldn't keep up! To the point where Tiny, at the top of Agincourt St, decided she didn't want to play this game anymore and slipped here collar to go and do something else less interesting.

This was our first hint that the dogs' enforced 30-day rest time at the hands of the estimable Govt may not have done their fitness the world of good. Of which more earlier.