Memory Lane

I thought I’d take another road trip a few weeks back, solo this time. Just a short little 940km round trip. I’ve got my music and snackpack. The long road is familiar and comforting, having done this drive many a time although it’s a little lonely without my old roadie buddy.

Pit-stop is at the welcoming Long Track Pantry & Cafe for their famous, and my fav, smoked trout pate. Then it’s back on the road, keeping an eye out for the great prophetic Jesus signs a religious nutter puts in his paddock near Gundagai. Nothing to see this time, maybe Jesus isn’t coming after all? I pass the exit signs for Wee Jasper and Burrumbuttock, cause anything goes here. Then the towering hills that look like they’ve been covered in velvety, faded kangaroo fur stretched taut come into view and I know my turn isn’t far off.

I’m here for a weekend of brunchy catch-ups with my Wagga ladies and a flying visit to Lou & Bose in Albury for a cuddle with the divine newest baby, Oskar. He even falls asleep in my arms, awww. I revisit some fav old haunts, check out the markets and try to track down some bread. Dismal failure. Bernard! Where are you? Why would you be closed?

For all the moaning I did when I was living in Wagga, being back here feels like home. It’s triggered off a swag of emotions and memories. I’d almost consider living here again. And I wasn’t expecting to feel that at all.


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