On the Midland Highway

As I was saying in the last entry, I left Ballarat for Shepparton about 12:30pm.  The Midland Highway, conveniently, runs straight as an arrow (well, not literally, but you get the idea) over the 300 kms between Ballarat and Shepparton and so I found it and got going.  I was kind of glad to be leaving Ballarat.  It's hard to explain, but that place troubles me.  One of the very nastiest sexual assault cases I ever handled came out of that city, and the city itself has a history of child abuse that seems near diabolical (I use the word deliberately: it seems like a product of wickedness that goes beyond the merely human).  The abuse of children at St Alipius' school comes to mind, for example.  And even though tales of children being unlawfully buried at the Ballarat Orphanage smell of urban myth, they were still credible enough for police to conduct an excavation recently.

I stopped in Daylesford for a coffee and to stretch my legs.  I'd had a hankering to go to Daylesford for a while now, although I'd have a hard time saying quite why.  It's kind of a Mecca for the hippy and the hipster - the sort of place where every second store seems to sell organic food or crystals or the like, and the first thing that hits your nose when you get out of the car is aromatherapy oil (I'm not making this up).  I'd been there once before - years ago with the ex for a weekend.  The memories were there as I wandered about, although I can't say I felt anything much one way or another about them.  I found a place that did awesome coffee (and which I'll review in the next post), read the paper and then got back on the road.

The balance of the drive was a laundry list of the towns as far as Tatura.  I was a little suprised to find I felt happier as the rocky terrain of the Goldfields region gave way to the broadacres of the Goulburn Valley.  I got back to Tatura about 5pm and returned the car to the SES building and collected my car.  On something that was a little more than a whim I decided to go to late Mass at Christ the King in Shepparton (see the previous entry about rekindling my faith).  It took a little longer than planned for me to get away from Tatura and ultimately I arrived in the middle of Communion.  So, I prayed for a bit and tried to get a sense of the congregation.  My impression is that this is a church I could feel at home in.

Back out to the farm after church.  No big news to hear apart from two new calves.  COld tonight but I think I'll sleep well.  Skypedate and Blood Bank tomorrow!